Dead Man
1995
William Blake: I... smell... beans...
William Blake: If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is: infinite.
William Blake: What is your name? Nobody: My name is Nobody. William Blake: Excuse me? Nobody: My name is Xebeche. He who talks loud, saying nothing. William Blake: He who talks... I thought you said your name was Nobody. Nobody: I preferred to be called Nobody.
Nobody: Did you kill the white man who killed you? William Blake: I'm not dead. Am I?
Nobody: The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn from the crow.
Nobody: Things which are alike, in nature, grow to look alike.
Big George: I don't give a shit who saw what, and who did what, or who did who.
Nobody: I was then taken east, in a cage. I was taken to Toronto. Then Philadelphia. And then to New York. And each time I arrived at another city, somehow the white men had moved all their people there ahead of me. Each new city contained the same white people as the last, and I could not understand how a whole city of people could be moved so quickly.
Nobody: That weapon will replace your tongue. You will learn to speak through it. And your poetry will now be written with blood.
Big George: What's a philistine? Sally: Well, it's just a real dirty person.
Big George: By God, I'm hit. Lord have mercy. Burns like hellfire. You son of a bitch. I'm gonna have to kill somebody now.
Big George: That's terrible. Sally: It's horrible. Big George: Terrible is what it is.
Big George: Well Sally, I don't give a pig's ass what anybody says, I still say you make a hell of a pot of beans.
Big George: You know I just, I can't drink whiskey like I usetacould. My old belly just ain't no count. I get the shits everytime don't you know.
Nobody: It is strange that you do not remember any of your poetry, William Blake.
Nobody: Stupid fucking white man.
Nobody: What name were you given at birth, stupid white man?
Train Fireman: I'll tell you one thing for sure... I wouldn't trust no words written down on no piece of paper, especially from no Dickinson out in the town of Machine... you're just as likely to find your own grave.
Nobody: Some are born to sweet delight; some are born to endless night.
Nobody: The evil stench of white man precedes him.
Marvin (Older Marshall) : You William Blake? William Blake: Yes, I am. Do you know my poetry?
Cole Wilson: (seeing a dead marshal's head lying on a woodpile) Looks like a goddamn religious icon!
Nobody: You were a poet and a painter, William Blake. But now, you're a killer of white men.
Nobody: The vision of Christ that thou does see, is my vision's greatest enemy.
Train Fireman: That doesn't explain why you've come all the way out here... all the way out here to hell.
Train Fireman: Look... they're shooting buffalo, government says... it killed a million of 'em last year alone.
Conway Twill: Jesus, Cole, he's just a kid. Cole Wilson: Now he's a Navajo mud toy.
Conway Twill: 'Course you can't put much stock in a man who spends the most part of a conversation talkin' to a bear... talkin'to a goddamn bear.
Conway Twill: (talking about Cole) Fucked his parents. Johnny 'The Kid' Pickett: He what ? Conway Twill: He fucked his parents. Johnny 'The Kid' Pickett: Both of 'em ? Conway Twill: Yeah. Conway Twill: Mother. Father. Parents. Both of 'em. Fucked 'em.
Nobody: I have prepared your canoe with cedar boughs. It's time for you to leave now, William Blake. Time for you to go back to where you came from. William Blake: Do you mean Cleveland? Nobody: Back to the place where all spirits come from, and where all spirits return. This world will no longer concern you.
Benmont Tench: Who are you travelin' with? William Blake: Uhm... Nobody.
Train Fireman: Look out the window. And doesn't this remind you of when you were in the boat, and then later than night, you were lying, looking up at the ceiling, and the water in your head was not dissimilar from the landscape, and you think to yourself, "Why is it that the landscape is moving, but the boat is still?"
Trading Post missionary: God damn your soul to the fires of Hell! William Blake: He already has.
William Blake: Do you still have my eyeglasses? Nobody: No, I traded them. Do you have any tobacco? William Blake: No, I traded it. Nobody: For what? William Blake: I'm not telling. Nobody: Liar. William Blake: Thief.