Goof: When Philo attempts to remove the cow from his room, he makes mention of cutting it up into parts, including the cut of beef known as filet mignon. The term filet mignon didn't hit the shores of the United States from France until 1898, about ten years after this episode is supposed to take place. It would also only appear first in the swankiest New York restaurants so it's extremely doubtful that someone like Philo would have ever even heard the term in his lifetime.
Pappyism: You wanna know what's goin' on in a pack rat's mind, you just find out what he hides with his loot.
Cy: (to Willie) Come on, son. Chores are one thing we're never short of around here...especially with so few of us doin' 'em.
Shifty: New brand of cards? How come, boss?
Tom: Simpler design, Shifty, harder to mark.
Cy: Well, uh, thanks for helpin' out, son, you did a fine job. But..here..here's $2.
Willie: Oh, no. I can't accept cash money.
Bret: Son, you're gonna find a fortune pretty hard to come by with that kinda attitude.
LaFleur: Sorry, but only the crude are punctual.
Willie: Well, I don't expect no wages, Mr. Guthrie. Just a place to sleep and, uh, a meal a day.
Bret: You can't bank sleepin' and meals.
Bret: You know, Tom..uh..somebody took a shot at me out at the ranch today...and if it hadn't been for that boy, you'd be the sole owner of this place.
Tom: Any idea who did it?
Bret: Well, I started makin' out a list...ran outta paper.
Bret: (about all the gunslingers in town) You know, usually that many vultures just don't come to rest on the same branch.
Dowd: You know, Maverick, you haven't exactly endeared yourself to the people of this town...and that little rodeo of yours didn't help any. There's over a hundred dollars worth of damage and it must be paid.
Bret: You must have a fortune tied up in earwax. You don't hear too good, do you?
Dowd: My job is to protect distinguished visitors from the likes of you. Mr. Bligh is a respected writer. As long as he's a guest in our town I don't want him harassed. Now, we'll check into this..uh..uh...Tul...Tulsa Jack...but unless you have some proof, you stay away from Mr. Bligh.
Bret: All right, all right. But, you better start makin' some room for bodies...and God help you if one of 'em turns out to be mine.
Bligh: (to Philo) Go away.
Bret: (entering room) Sandeen, go away.
Philo: Uh, afraid you're gonna have to wait your turn, Bret. Me and Mr. Bligh have a little business...
Bret: Sandeen, go away...or I'll shoot you
Bret: You've conned everyone into thinking that you're here to research a book. That book's about me, isn't it? ...And one of those poor latrine lizards who thinks he's gonna have his name remembered?
Bligh: Mr. Maverick, that's pure conjecture on your part. But, even if it were true, uh, what could you do, have me arrested? On what charges? Run me out of town? And even then, do you think that would stop the wheels already in motion?
Bret: They'll be no more friendly chats. The next time somebody tries to kill me, I'm comin' straight for you.
Bligh: (laughs) You know, it's interesting that your fantasy doesn't include your own demise.
Bret: It's a funny thing about wheels in motion. You really think that you're the only one with a killer in his back pocket, don't you? (chuckles)
(Willie surprises Bret, who pulls a derringer on him)
Bret: Willie...Willie, there are two times when it's best not to tap a man on the back. The first time is when he's heeding nature's call and the other...is when the hair on the back of his neck is standin' straight up.
Bret: He's tryin' to have me killed.
Mary Lou: What? If you mean Uncle Nimrod...
Bret: He's also so crooked he has to screw on his boots.
Mary Lou: Don't be ridiculous, Maverick. The man is just here doing research.
Bret: All right, you have it your way. But, when it comes time to photograph the body, thi...(points) this is my best side.
Cy: Maverick, come on home. We'll make a stand at the ranch. I got enough supplies to last for a month.
Bret: Oh, do you think you and I'd last a month, just you and me...jabberin' at each other?
Bligh: Oh, yes, the book. Well, I must say it's not without merit, Mr. Sandine. In fact, last night, I used most of it to...to start a fire in my stove.
Bligh: Go on, boy. Inside of a week, everyone in this territory will know your name.
Bret: Yeah, go ahead, Willie. Just don't pay any attention to the fact that I'm unarmed. Nobody's gonna know, he won't write it that way. Once you get used to...livin' on the run, Willie, you're just gonna love fame. 'Course, you're gonna have to learn to watch your back, and people who call you friend...and they'll always be snakes like Bligh to set you up, but...you'll get used to it. Hell, you can get used to just about anything.
(Philo pulls a knife on the cow, trying to get it out of his room)
Philo: Now, either you walk up those stairs, or you go outta here piece by piece...flank, rump and filet mignon. You call it. (the cow stares him down)
Ramon Bieri is credited but doesn't appear.