- Johnny Yuma: Wait a minute. My saddle, all my gear, I left it back there.
- Jess Hosmer: I ain't trading my scalp for no saddle, boy.
- Paul Travers: This was my battlefield. No guns, or flags, or bugles, just dust eating into your skin and the sun filling your eyes until that's all you can see. All you'll ever see.
- Johnny Yuma: I don't think you've done any talking for a long time.
- Paul Travers: What is there to talk about? Knowing you're trapped, and waiting for help that never comes. Driver who gives you hope, a way out, a narrow draw and leaves you to scout ahead. Never comes back.
- Paul Travers: But you're the exception in a bitter, selfish, lonely world.
- Johnny Yuma: Not such an exception. Somebody left flowers here. Somebody left flowers on an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere. Is it such a bitter, selfish world?