Wyatt Earp: What makes a man like Ringo, Doc? What makes him do the things he does?
Doc Holliday: A man like Ringo has got a great big hole, right in the middle of him. He can never kill enough, or steal enough, or inflict enough pain to ever fill it.
Wyatt Earp: What does he want?
Doc Holliday: Revenge.
Wyatt Earp: For what?
Doc Holliday: Bein' born.

It's true, you are a good woman. Then again, you may be the antichrist.

Nonsense, I have not yet begun to defile myself.

Wyatt Earp: Well, I'll be damned.
Doc Holliday: You may indeed, if you get lucky.

Why Johnny Ringo, you look like someone just walked over your grave.

Billy Clanton: Why, it's the drunk piano player. You're so drunk, you can't hit nothin'. In fact, you're probably seeing double.
Doc Holliday: [takes out a second gun] I have two guns, one for each of ya.

Billy Clanton: Stephen Foster. "Oh, Susannah," "Camptown Races." Stephen stinking Foster.
Doc Holliday: Ah, yes. Well, this happens to be a nocturne.
Billy Clanton: A which?
Doc Holliday: You know, Frederic fucking Chopin.

Sherman McMasters: Where is he?
Doc Holliday: Down by the creek, walking on water.

Wyatt Earp: How are you?
Doc Holliday: I'm dying, how are you?

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