- Ted Callender: Oh, I am sorry if my loud, crude, vulgar voice is giving you a headache.
- Chief Peter Clifford: The pain, Mr Callender, is not in my head.
- Ted Callender: Oh, you're a charmer, you are. Well I almost had a headache, you know what sort? The sort of headache you get when lead goes in here and comes out here!
- [indicating his head]
- Sam McCloud: Mr Callender, about that party o' yours tonight...
- Ted Callender: I ain't calling it off.
- Sam McCloud: You know it's going to be very difficult to guard you with all those people there.
- Ted Callender: Well, that's your problem, mate.
- Sam McCloud: It's your life.
- Chief Peter Clifford: You don't deal with actors much down on the farm, do you?
- Sam McCloud: No, there's not too many of them out on the mesa.
- Chief Peter Clifford: Well, most of them are normal, hardworking people. But there's an element that's emotionally unstable, psychically insecure. You take that for starters, stir with frustration, add a gun, and you come up with a Les Lander.
- Sam McCloud: Yeah, for them it's not 'all the world's a stage,' it's the stage is all the world.
- Chief Peter Clifford: You read Shakespeare in the bunkhouse.
- Sam McCloud: I thought that was Zane Grey.
- Jennifer Houghton: It's a sad thing, Marshal, to realize that the best thing you can do for the one you love, is get out of his sight.
- Payroll Clerk: According to overtime, you've earned, uhm... two extra days off. You're entitled to 48 hours on the town.
- Sam McCloud: Really?
- [chuckles]
- Sam McCloud: Well, you know something? I'd ask you out for dinner, but according to this, I can't afford nothin' but a glass o' water and free ketchup.
- Payroll Clerk: [eagerly] I accept.
- Sam McCloud: Hey, there ya go.
- Ted Callender: [glancing through a book of mugshots] Oh, this is hopeless. A thousand bleeding villains and not one of them looks like the parisher that shot me. Why you wanted her ladyship along I got no idea, I really haven't. She just caught one glimpse of the geezer downstairs, she's probably looking for someone with emerald eyes, purple earholes and lightning flashing out of his hooter.
- Ted Callender: You see, the tribe desperately needs the harvest. There's drought over the porridge fields, blight on the op crops or some bloody catastrophe or other, and so a sacrifice has to be made. A sacrifice of a beautiful girl. Now, why beautiful, I've got no idea at all. 'Cause if I'd lived in those days, I'd choose some right old boiler to sacrifice. But it's tradition, darling.