Sheriff John Behan: We're growing. Be as big as San Francisco in a few years, and just as sophisticated.
Doc Holliday: Sheriff, allow me to present a pair of fellow sophisticates. Turkey Creek Jack Johnson and Texas Jack Vermillion. Mind your ear, Creek.
Doc Holliday: Maybe poker's just not your game, Ike. I know: let's have a spelling contest.
Doc Holliday: Weave a circle round him thrice, / And close your eyes with holy dread, / For he on honey-dew hath fed, / And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Wyatt Earp: [to Josephine Marcus] I have nothing left, nothing to give you, I have no pride, no dignity, no money, I don't even know how we'll make a living, but I promise I'll love you the rest of your life [they kiss]
Wyatt Earp: [Before the shootout at the OK Corral] "It's not your problem, Doc, you don't have to mix up in this." Doc Holliday: [Offeneded] "That is a hell of a thing for you to say to me."
