The Greatness of an Iconic Western Quote -- What Makes You Want to Say it Over and Over?

by Heather Blanton

Westerns are known for some of the best, most oft-repeated lines in cinema history. But what makes a good line so memorable it makes the transition from book to movie and becomes iconic?

I’ve given this some thought over the years. I think the answer is they are always born of honor, pride (sometimes in the form of bravado), love, and hate/vengeance. They reflect the indomitable—and often flawed—human spirit. They spring from the noble sacrifice—knowing that a character will walk through hell covered in gasoline to save a loved one, and (the part we love) kill anyone who gets in the way.

Nearly always, the line reveals the pure essence of a character—sometimes at their best, sometimes not so much. But, I believe, we want to identify with the character.

Take for example the one iconic Western line that keenly reveals the heart of a mysterious cowboy known forever and only as the Virginian. Say his name and any Western aficionado will immediately respond with, “When you say that, smile.” That one quote says everything you need to know about The Virginian. He was a steady, deliberate man. Peacable, but a soul on a slow burn. Strength under control. If Trampas had only been smart enough to understand him he might have lived

And perhaps just as simply but as clear is this short quote from Will Kane in High Noon. Bandits are on their way to his town for revenge and Will Kane can run or stand his ground alone. Well, we know what a man of honor would do. Stand.

Will: I've got to, that's the whole thing.

It’s that simple. No alternatives. In Kane’s world, a man’s honor is everything.

Sometimes a line is spoken out of a bravado so pure, so undefiled by humility, we have to admire the speaker. Val Kilmer’s portray of Doc Holliday in Tombstone was sheer genius. Who can forget, “I’m your huckleberry.” Doc was fearless, dangerous, and crazily endearing.

However, arrogance wrapped in a sardonic wit was Kilmer’s real gift to the movie. I know you remember this exchange:

Ike Clanton: What is that now? Twelve hands in a row? Holliday, son of a bitch, nobody's that lucky.

Doc Holliday: Why Ike, whatever do you mean? Maybe poker's just not your game, Ike. I know! Let's have a spelling contest!

Don’t tell me you haven’t had moments when you wished you could be so pithy and courageous

Which brings me to another point: the power of humor. Done right, it expresses deadly intentions or relieves tension. Val Kilmer slayed it—pun intended—in Tombstone with exchanges loaded with murderous intent. Remember this light-hearted banter?

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.

[Billy Clanton draws a knife]

Doc Holliday: [takes out a second gun] I have two guns, one for each of ya.

Only an idiot would doubt Doc wouldn’t use both of them.

But sometimes a line is played for pure humor, while still revealing character. If I say “rat writ,” you know instantly who I’m talkin’ about:

Rooster Cogburn: [cocks his gun] Mr. Rat... I have a writ here says you're to stop eating Chen Lee's cornmeal forthwith. Now it's a rat writ, writ for a rat, and this is lawful service of the same. See? Doesn't pay any attention to me. 

And, hence, we learn through a good laugh that Rooster is always willing to pull the trigger if his lawful orders are ignored. Life to him is black-and-white. The rest of us wish it was so simple.

Then there are the lines that deliver a promise of death in jarring clarity. Humor never enters in. The tension is palpable. One of my favorite exchanges is from Big Jake, and every Western fan I know can quote it. The bad guys have made the mistake of kidnapping Big Jake’s grandson and murdering family members.  

Jake: And now *you* understand. Anything goes wrong, anything at all... your fault, my fault, nobody's fault... it won't matter - I'm gonna blow your head off.

That line gives me chills. It’s the voice of death. If someone messed with your family, wouldn’t you want to say that line just like the Duke?

You don’t always like the person delivering the line, but you can still adire the line. Of course I’m thinking of Scarlet O’Hara. If you don’t remember anything else about the conniving gal, you remember her tenacity. And when she makes her famous vow, you know it’s a done deal. Take it to the bank:

Scarlet: As God is my witness, as God is my witness they're not going to lick me. … As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again.

So many good lines, so little space to quote them all. The next time you hear a good line from a Western, ponder the character saying it. It should speak volumes about him. It should cement his traits. Most importantly, though, it should show an unbroken, persevering, fearless, flawed human we can identify with.

All right, back to work. We’re burnin’ daylight.

What's your favorite quote from a Western?

The Stagecoach

Those stylish, elegant coaches of yesteryear are so nostalgic, romantic, cozy and quaint. Or perhaps it’s our imagination that makes them so appealing. 

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I decided to go ‘up north’ to check on our property. It’s about 300 miles, and we thought little about traveling that far and back in a couple of days. It takes about six hours to get there, including stopping to eat, etc.  However, for the characters in my books, it would have been a much more extensive journey. Back then, trains mainly traveled east and west, therefore, any north/south travel was completed by stage. Depending upon how often they stopped, the weather and terrain, stage coaches took between 8-14 hours to travel fifty miles.

The term Stagecoach came about because of the ‘coaches’ that carried passengers along a route in ‘stages’. Stagecoaches could be anything from buckboard wagons to elaborate ‘coaches.’ As long as they were used for public transportation and ran a regularly scheduled route, they were considered stagecoaches. Depending on the route, the number of regular passengers, the weather, and the distance, the coaches would vary, as would the number of horses or mules. Four was the usual number, but six-team coaches were not uncommon, especially for the larger, ‘overland’ stages, and the smaller, shorter coaches and routes were usually pulled by two horses. The average speed was five to twelve miles and hour.

Despite close quarters, long, bumpy and dusty roads, and threats of Indian or outlaw attacks, stagecoaches flourished and were widely used, even after the railroads crossed the nation.  The term stationwagon came about when long wagons boasting three wide bench seats came into service for the specific role of carrying passengers to and from railroad stations.      

In most vehicles, passengers were provided an average of 15 inches each, and sat with their knees dovetailed with the traveler across from them, and depending on other cargo the stage was carrying, passengers often had to hold their luggage on their laps. Etiquette, and/or, passenger behavior was strictly enforced. Wells Fargo had this list of rules posted:

·  Abstinence from liquor is requested, but if you must drink share the bottle. To do otherwise makes you appear selfish and unneighborly.

·  If ladies are present, gentlemen are urged to forego smoking cigars and pipes as the odor of same is repugnant to the gentler sex. Chewing tobacco is permitted, but spit with the wind, not against it.

·  Gentlemen must refrain from the use of rough language in the presence of ladies and children.

·  Buffalo robes are provided for your comfort in cold weather. Hogging robes will not be tolerated and the offender will be made to ride with the driver.

·  Don't snore loudly while sleeping or use your fellow passenger's shoulder for a pillow; he or she may not understand and friction may result.

·  Firearms may be kept on your person for use in emergencies. Do not fire them for pleasure or shoot at wild animals as the sound riles the horses.

·  In the event of runaway horses remain calm. Leaping from the coach in panic will leave you injured, at the mercy of the elements, hostile Indians and hungry coyotes.

·  Forbidden topics of conversation are: stagecoach robberies and Indian uprisings.

·  Gents guilty of unchivalrous behavior toward lady passengers will be put off the stage. It's a long walk back. A word to the wise is sufficient.

Fares varied, not only due to distance, but class as well.

First class meant you rode all the way.

Second class meant you had to walk at bad places along the road.

Third class meant you had to push the coach when needed, especially on hilly terrain.

Depending on the schedule, some stagecoaches would travel all night, stopping only for fresh horses and quick meals. When an overnight stay was included, the coach often arrived around midnight, and left again by six the following morning. Passengers were encouraged to pack food provisions and they were also told not to grease their hair before traveling because dust would stick to it.

  

Stagecoaches came to an end around 1915, when motor buses took the place of the horse-drawn coaches.

I’ve ridden in a few ‘tourist’ stagecoaches, and the short rides were fun, but I must admit I prefer modern transportation options. In the story I’m writing right now, the heroine travels over 300 miles via stage from Texas to Kansas with her three-year-old niece. The journey took a week for them to complete.

That story won’t be released until 2018, but my 30^th book with Harlequin was released April 1^st.

Reunited with the cowboy! 

Long ago, orphans Bridgette Banks and Garth McCain made a promise to stay together. But it's been years since they were parted, and Bridgette's almost given up hope! So when Garth's cattle trail passes her town, she won't let him leave her behind again…

Sparks fly as they're reunited—especially when the cowboy catches Bridgette telling everyone she's his bride! Faced with a past he thought he'd lost forever, Garth realizes this impulsive beauty might be the future he never thought he deserved.

Westward, HO!

I’ve always been fascinated by the brave, intrepid souls who decided to traverse across the country to California in the period of American history we now call the “Westward Expansion.” Having just made that trip (albeit in what would be considered unbelievable comfort and ease by those early travelers) to California for the Collie Nationals, I’m even more amazed at how much perseverance those emigrants possessed. Driving along Interstate 80 to the summit of Donner Pass, it just wasn’t the snow that gave me chills. People perished and souls were lost. I read somewhere that if all those who perished attempting to traverse the trail from Missouri to California or Oregon were placed along those trails, there would be a grave every one thousand feet. (And as of this writing, when I checked to see just how much snow has fallen on Donner Pass this winter, it's STILL snowing at Donner and Truckee.) 

Memorial to the Donner Party at Donner Pass

And, that journey got me to thinking about what one might need to make that trip. So, I went to my trusty, handy-dandy reprint of The Prairie Traveler by Captain Randolph Marcy. This book was THE handbook for American pioneers.

The list of provisions makes my head spin and I just can’t wrap my head around storing one hundred pounds of bacon packed with bran and sewn into heavy canvas sacks and boxed up and stored in the bottom of the wagon to keep it cool. I’m just envisioning one hundred pounds of rancid bacon and bran…

 The list of clothing for one man for a three month long journey is as follows:

2 red or blue flannel overshirts, open in the front with buttons

2 woolen undershirts

2 pairs of thick cotton drawers

4 pair of woolen socks

2 pair of cotton socks

4 colored silk handkerchiefs (I’m guessing which color isn’t that important, unlike the overshirt which specified they should be red or blue)

2 pair stout shoes

1 pair of boots

1 pair of walking shoes

 3 towels

1 gutta percha poncho (I assume that is a water proof poncho)

1 broad-brimmed hat of soft felt

1 comb and brush

2 tooth-brushes

1 pound of Castile soap

3 pounds of bar soap to wash clothes with

1 belt knife and small whetstone

Stout linen thread, large needles, a bit of beeswax, a few buttons, paper of pins and a thimble—all contained in a small bag

1 coat

1 overcoat

1 rifle

1 revolver

Oddly enough, there is no mention of ammunition for said rifle and revolver.

It was enough of a trek cross country with eight collies and three people in my van. I cannot imagine making that journey to California on foot.

American Indian Day & Boarding Schools by Paty Jager

Carlisle Indian Boarding School in Pennsylvania

There were many indignities bestowed upon the American Indian. One that I have researched for a historical western romance I’m writing is Indian schools.

 

In 1819, the U.S. government came up with the “Civilization fund”. This was a law providing “for the civilization of the Indian tribes adjoining the frontier settlements”.  This was a payment to churches, missions or anyone of good moral character to teach Indians agriculture suited to where the area they lived and teach the children reading, writing, and arithmetic.

  

By 1824, thirty-two missionary schools were operating among the tribes, teaching nine hundred children. Churches and missions jumped on the governments money to civilize the American Indian. At this time, the schools were day schools. The children remained with their families and came to the school for a portion of the day. They wore their own clothes but were usually given a name easier to pronounce.

During Indian treaties, grants were authorized to provide schools for the tribes the government wanted to befriend. 

 

The schools followed much the same pattern. Half of the day was spent on curriculum comprised of common school academic subjects – English language, arithmetic, history, geography, and the religion of the denomination of the mission. The other half of the day consisted of learning labors appropriate to the gender. Boys learned blacksmithing, woodworking, and agriculture. Girls learned cooking, dressmaking, and other domestic arts. 

1876 the BIA- Bureau of Indian Affairs- was established. This government agency was put in place to expand Indian schooling.  BIA started their own schools on reservations forcing out the missionaries.

Attendance at these schools was made mandatory by regulation on many reservations. Native American children aged six through sixteen had to attend. And these schools were boarding schools. They children had to cut their hair, give up their clothing to wear the government issued uniforms. They also could not speak their language, nor practice any spiritual leanings other than the church.

But the schools inside the reservations didn’t work. The children were still in close proximity to their families which kept them from becoming fully ensconced in the white language and values. The government moved the boarding schools away from the villages, putting them closer to agency headquarters. The children were only permitted to go home during the summer months and at Christmas. While they hoped this would stop the children having contact with native influences, they didn’t take into consideration parents visiting their children and speaking their language.

Powwow in Wallowa, Oregon

  

To keep the contact between student and parent as limited as possible, off-reservation boarding schools were built. The government had finally found a way to rid Indian children of their language and culture. In many cases, the children were sent hundreds of miles away from their family, language, and culture. This model for Indian schools came from what they had been learning about assimilating Indian prisoners to the Whiteman’s ways.

As with the other boarding schools, the children had to cut their hair. Hair to an American Indian is strength. They had to wear uniforms and their names were changed. 

Many Indian parents refused to send their children to the reservation schools.  There was widespread opposition to stealing their culture and their children. Indian agents had strong powers of persuasion. Rations were withheld from uncooperative families, and in cases where even the withholding of food would not persuade a parent to send their child to school, police were sent to take the children by force.

The off-reservation boarding schools were popular with the communities in which they resided. The schools provided employment for local residents, supplies were purchased from local merchants, and the students were a source of cheap labor for the owners of the surrounding farms. The program where the students were loaned to the farms to learn agriculture was called an “Outting”.

A good book that shows the life of American Indian children in a boarding school is: The Middle Five (Indian Schoolboys of the Omaha Tribe) by Francis La Flesche. 

To learn more about the government and Indian schools here are two books: American Indian Children at School, 1850-1930 by Michael C. Coleman and The Churches and the Indian Schools, 1888-1912 by Francis Purcha

Paty Jager is an award-winning author of 30+ novels, dozen novellas, and short stories of murder mystery, western romance, and action adventure. She has a RomCon Reader’s Choice Award, EPPIE, Lorie, and RONE Award. All her work has Western or Native American elements in them along with hints of humor and engaging characters. This is what readers have to say about the Letters of Fate series- “...filled with romance, adventure and twists and turns.” “What a refreshing and well written love story of fate and hope!”

 

 photo source: Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4797733

powwow photo by Paty Jager