A drifting gunslinger-for-hire finds himself in the middle of an ongoing war between the Irish and Italian mafia in a Prohibition era ghost town.

Felina: My fear is my curse. What's yours?
John Smith: I was born without a conscience.
[last lines]
John Smith: And that was it. It ended about the same place where it started, out in the desert on the road to Mexico. I was just as broke as when I arrived, but something would turn up. It always does.
John Smith: Does your boss have a first name?
Lucy Kolinski: Only in the bedroom.
Capt. Tom Pickett: Things in this town are out of control. Two gangs is just one too many. I'm not an idealist. I know a lot of things that people do are awful low, but that's between them and God. Do you believe in God? I believe in God, son. But what I'm concerned with is keeping a lid on things, and what we got here in Jericho is just way out of hand, and Sheriff Galt, here, can't do much about it, right? Matter of fact, it might be fair to say that he's part of the problem, right? Now you been going back and forth, playing both sides according to Mr. Galt, here, making yourself a lot of money out of all this. Well, it's over, son. I'm coming back here in ten days, and I'm gonna bring about twenty rangers with me. I will tolerate *one* gang, because that is the nature of things. A certain amount of corruption is inevitable. But if I find *two* gangs here when I get back, then in a couple of hours there will be *no* gangs here. So it's simple. One gang quits and goes home. You boys work it out. I don't give a damn which one.
John Smith: Just so long as one side leaves, or maybe one side loses.
Capt. Tom Pickett: That's fine, too, son. Kill as many as you want. Just don't kill no innocent people around here. I wouldn't like that.
John Smith: [crawling bloodied] After a while you stop hearing your bones break, your teeth rattle. You just concentrate on holding tight to that little part right at the center. The rest doesn't matter. They're gonna take the rest anyway.
John Smith: I'm surprised you aren't mad at me... I thought you might hold it against me for killing 3 of your guys.
Doyle: It's the only cure I know for being stupid.
Sheriff Ed Galt: [about Doyle] If he sends Hickey after me, he's coming straight after you.
John Smith: Yeah, Hickey. I've heard he's a real scary guy.
[he starts to open the door, Galt shuts it]
Sheriff Ed Galt: Let me tell you just how scary. It goes that when Hickey was ten years old, he took a butcher knife and cut his own father's throat, ear to ear. So they put him in an orphanage. Fifteen years old, he burned it to the ground!
Finn: I guess you'll just have to kill me.
John Smith: It'll hurt if I do.
John Smith: you go the other and you'd still be walking around but you're dead and you don't know it.
John Smith: It's not your fault Giorgio's a halfwit Strozzi. You wanna die for a halfwit?
Lucy Kolinski: You try and keep it down up here, okay, my room is right underneath.
John Smith: I'll try not to make too much noise when I'm jumpin' up and down on the bed
Hickey: You're scared.
John Smith: [in bathtub] The water's gettin' cold.
Finn: It's not a good idea to be looking at Mr. Doyle's girl that way.
John Smith: I remember a guy once told me this is a free country.
Finn: Jacko, this guy thinks it's a free country.
Jacko the Giant: [puts his fist through the windshield]
Finn: Now you're free to go.
Doyle Gang Member: [slashes his tire]
Finn: Sheriff's office is right over there in case you want to complain about anything.
John Smith: What about Prohibition?
Joe Monday: We don't pay too much attention to it here.
Jack McCool: Mr. Doyle wants you to come work for us full time.
John Smith: I'm not sure he can afford it.
Doyle: Try me.
John Smith: A thousand dollars.
Doyle: A week... or a day?
Sheriff Ed Galt: You know something amigo? I think I just spotted a chink in your armor. When you go down... it's going be over a skirt.
Hickey: I heard you got Finn. That was Doyle's best shooter.
John Smith: I thought you were the best.
Hickey: Nah, just the best lookin'.
Capt. Tom Pickett: I'm here about a murdered policeman, got himself killed the other side of the river in some crummy little Mexican town. A few locals killed, too, and a double-dealing Commandant named Ramirez. But the man I'm concerned about was an American on the border patrol. He had a family. Well liked by his brother officers. I guess he strayed a little bit in some departments, but he was an officer of the law, just the same.
John Smith: [after the final shootout] I can't say it all went exactly the way I'd planned, but I was right about one thing: they were all better off dead.
Hickey: [Final scene, speaking to Smith] I don't want to die in Texas. Chicago, maybe... but not Texas. You can meet me there if you like.
Joe Monday: You know, for a guy with no principles, sometimes you act kinda peculiar.
Joe Monday: Last I heard you were gonna have a talk with some fellas. Next thing I hear one of them's dead.
John Smith: The conversation kind of went downhill...
John Smith: I always like sinners a lot better than saints. She was real easy to look at. But I'm glad I never saw her again.
John Smith: The funny thing about people, one time out of a hundred they turn out better than you expect.
Jack McCool: You sitting out in the open, might not be such a good idea for a fella that has as many enemies as you got.
John Smith: I thought everybody liked me. I am such a nice guy.
Sheriff Ed Galt: Do yourself a favor. First thing, get a firearm.
[first lines]
John Smith: It's a funny thing. No matter how low you sink there's still a right and wrong. You always end up choosing. You go one way so you can try to live with yourself. You go the other, you'd still be walkin' around, but you're dead and you don't even know it.
John Smith: [narrating] Strozzi said he had brought the girl along to keep up his "morale". That's the first time I had ever heard it called *that*.
John Smith: [narrating] For most of my life I made my own rules. You don't do any favors. You don't ask for any. Watch the percentages. But you can know the rules and still do the wrong thing. The only thing I knew for sure was this: Strozzi, Doyle, and every son of a bitch that worked for them... they were all going to be better off dead.
John Smith: You tell Mr. Doyle, if he'd a hired smarter guys none of this woulda happened.

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