Herod – Character Quotes

— You think I do this contest because it's fun? Look at this town. These people would kill you for your bootlaces. This way I get to face my enemies. They can't shoot me in the back. And of course I always win.
— One day your luck will run out.
— I don't win because I'm lucky.

John Herod: — You're dead. You're dead!
Cort: — Sorry, John. Changed the rules. From now on, all the fights are fair.
John Herod: — Who are you?!
Ellen: — You stole my life.
<...>
John Herod: — You're not fast enough for me!
Ellen: — Today I am. The law has come back to town.

— Sign me up.
— No women in quick-draw.
— There's no rules against ladies. It's just that women can't shoot for shit. Adíos, Reverend. Put 'em both in the contest.

— All that work, Cort... those years of hard work... destroyed for no reason. It must make you angry. You used to be fast. Are you still fast. Don't I get an answer? Have you taken a vow of silence? I said, are you still fast?
— Faster than you.

— My friend here needs a gun.
— This here's the eagle-butt Peacemaker. Solid ivory handle. Mexican emblem. Only 30 of these ever made. And this is the customized Remington, new model. Army.44. It's probably more accurate than your Colt. I had the wooden handles removed and replaced with solid silver. Used with great success... on 30... No, 35 bank robberies by its late owner. Boy. And this... This is the best help a man can get. Smith & Wesson Schofield.45. Just meat and potatoes. Me and Jesse James think it's the best handgun in the world. I had the trigger guard removed. It saves drawing time. Don't ever wear it when you're drunk or you'll kill your feet.
— When's the last time you held a gun, Cort?
— You know when.
— Here. I got offered $120 for this Colt. You wanna try it out?
— You got $120, Cort?
— I don't have any money. The Lord provides me with everything I need.

— Felt natural, didn't it? Nice and smooth?
— You're pretty fast. Hope I don't have to fight you.
— You have a choice to be here. I don't.
— He made you do it.
— I was the only one who pulled the trigger.
— Well, this ain't much of a town for a preacher.
— I wasn't always a preacher.

— Mr. Hanlon... I wanted to ask you about Indian Wells. That fight really take place?
— Sure did.
— Then it's true that you gunned down four men?
— Two with my left hand, two with my right hand. You see, the truth is... that I am just as good with either.
— You must be the fastest gun in the West. That or the biggest liar.
— It's a pity you weren't there to find out.
— Oh, but I was, Ace. You see, I was the one that really killed the Terrence brothers. And I doubt a lying, little chickenshit like you was even in the same state. How about that left hand, Ace? How about that left-handed draw?
— Goddamn. God.
— Mr. Ace Hanlon. The scourge of the sagebrush. The terror of Tucson. A bladder full of hot air.

— So why'd you come here tonight?
— You invited me.
— You could have turned me down.
— I wanted to see what kind of man you are.
— What kind of man am I?
— The kind people hate.
— I'm not trying to be popular. The people in this town, they need me. I bring a sense of order to their lives. Not law, order.
— Like hanging a preacher in the saloon?
— He's no preacher. He's a fraud. If a man is a killer, then that's what he is. There's no dishonor. But don't let that same man suddenly tell me... that it's not in his blood anymore. That's worse than a liar.

— Did you ever kill anyone?
— Sure.
— I don't think you have. You see, it all comes down to one thing: How far are you prepared to go?
— All the way.
— My father was a judge. That surprises you. He used to make my mother and me watch people being hanged... for our improvement. One day he said there was too much bad in this world. He took a bullet, put it in his gun... spun the chamber... and then took it in turns, clicking it at each of us... until he finally blew the back of his head off... with the final click. Understand this: There is nothing on this earth that frightens me now. Nothing.

Eugene Dred: — It's lights out, Kid! I'm gonna be pissing on your grave tonight. You're through.
Horace: — Quiet! Quiet! Gentlemen, please remember... you must not draw... until that clock makes the first chime of the hour. Once that happens, you may fire at your convenience.
Fee "The Kid" Herod: — Whoa, now. What if somebody gets too excited and starts shooting early?
John Herod: — Yeah. If he cheats, he'll be eliminated from the contest.
Horace: — Whoever is standing after the draw... is the winner. If both men are still standing, you must continue firing. Do I make myself clear? Gentlemen, the street is yours.

— I'm shocked. Reverend here needs a gun.
— There's plenty of other places in town to buy a gun.
— Nowhere as cheap.
— I wouldn't know a place that's cheap enough for you.
— You know, your mouth gets faster every day. Pity your hands are so slow.
— I ain't got slow hands.
— Sure you do. Put your hand on the counter here. Go on. Put your gun hand up on the counter. Look at this, Cort. Here's a gunfighter's hand and here's a farmer's hand.
— I ain't got no farmer's hands.
— You know, Cort and me are killers. We're the genuine article. But you... You're from different stock.

John Herod: — I'll tell you what. I'll be a good Samaritan. What's the cheapest gun you got? Not in the case. The cheapest piece of worthless crap in the whole store.
Fee "The Kid" Herod: — All right. Five bucks.
John Herod: — Sold. What are you doing there? No. Preacher here's got the Lord on his side. He only needs one bullet. Just one. Otherwise, he might be tempted to shoot his way out of town.
Fee "The Kid" Herod: — That gun shoots straight. I wouldn't sell it if it didn't.
Cort: — It's okay, Kid. I won't draw.
John Herod: — Sure you will. I know you, Cort. When it comes down to it, you'll pull the trigger.