Butch Cassidy Quotes

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Nobody knows anything.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
We drove through Utah, the Crossroads of the West, bordered by all the mountain states, except for Montana. Laying rooted in the backcountry we saw some of the most awe-inspiring groove gulleys we’d ever seen, but it was the intensity of Zion National Park that held our attention; The red rock backdrop dazzled us as brutal rapids nose-dived off the cliffs into pools surrounded by abundant green piñon-juniper forests and fiery peach and coral sandstone canyons carved by flowing rivers and streams. It would honestly not have surprised me to see Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid plunging from an unforgiving precipice into the river below.
Karl Wiggins (Wrong Planet - Searching for your Tribe)
Yo tengo una visión y el resto de mundo usa bifocales
Butch Cassidy
Butch: Y'know, when I was a kid, I always figured on being a hero when I grew up. Sundance: Too late now. Butch: You didn't have to say that—what'd you have to say that for?
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
You just keep thinking, Butch; that's what you're good at.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
Butch: Now after we.... wait a minute... Sundance: What? Butch: You didn't see Lefors out there? Sundance: Lefors ? No. Butch: Good. For a minute there I thought we were in trouble.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
I'm not picky. As long as she's smart and pretty, sweet and gentle and tender and refined and lovely and carefree.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
Butch Cassidy and Harry A. Longabaugh, “the Sundance kid,” were holed up and then gunned down Sixty years prior to the death of “Che” Guevara and high in the same Bolivian highlands, by the Bolivian army. It is thought that being mortally wounded one of them shot the other before shooting himself. Attempts to find any remains that match the DNA of living relatives, has so far failed. However, Butch Cassidy's sister, Lula Parker Betenson, maintained that her brother returned to the United States and lived in seclusion for years. In 1975, Red Fenwick, the feature writer and columnist at The Denver Post, stated that he was acquainted with Cassidy's physician, who continued to treat him for some years after he supposedly was killed in Bolivia. The likelihood of this account remains extremely doubtful. However, if it were true, Cassidy would certainly have died by now, and any opportunity to determine the truth would be difficult or perhaps even impossible. In addition, if true, it would raise the question of who the two men were that were killed by the Bolivian army…. The road between where the execution of “Che” Guevara took place and where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid were shot to death, is called El rastro de muerte or “The Trail of Death!
Hank Bracker
Something's got you panicked and it's too late. You may be the biggest thing ever to hit this area, but in the long run, you're just two-bit outlaws. I never met a soul more affable than you, Butch, or faster than the Kid, but you're still nothing but a couple of two-bit outlaws on the dodge... —you just want to hide out till it's old times again, but it's over. It's over, don't you get that? It's over and you're both gonna die bloody, and all you can do is choose where.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
Not that it matters, but most of what follows is true.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
Taking quick looks behind him on the trail, Lew Basnight was apt to see things that weren’t necessarily there. Mounted figure in a black duster and hat, always still, turned sidewise in the hard, sunlit distance, horse bent to the barren ground. No real beam of attention, if anything a withdrawal into its own lopsided star-shaped silhouette, as if that were all it had ever aspired to. It did not take long to convince himself that the presence behind him now, always just out of eyeball range, belonged to one and the same subject, the notorious dynamiter of the San Juans known as the Kieselguhr Kid. The Kid happened to be of prime interest to White City Investigations. Just around the time Lew was stepping off the train at the Union Station in Denver, and the troubles up in the Coeur d’Alene were starting to bleed over everywhere in the mining country, where already hardly a day passed without an unscheduled dynamite blast in it someplace, the philosophy among larger, city-based detective agencies like Pinkerton’s and Thiel’s began to change, being as they now found themselves with far too much work on their hands. On the theory that they could look at their unsolved cases the way a banker might at instruments of debt, they began selling off to less-established and accordingly hungrier outfits like White City their higher-risk tickets, including that of the long-sought Kieselguhr Kid. It was the only name anybody seemed to know him by, “Kieselguhr” being a kind of fine clay, used to soak up nitroglycerine and stabilize it into dynamite. The Kid’s family had supposedly come over as refugees from Germany shortly after the reaction of 1849, settling at first near San Antonio, which the Kid-to-be, having developed a restlessness for higher ground, soon left, and then after a spell in the Sangre de Cristos, so it went, heading west again, the San Juans his dream, though not for the silver-mine money, nor the trouble he could get into, both of those, he was old enough by then to appreciate, easy enough to come by. No, it was for something else. Different tellers of the tale had different thoughts on what. “Don’t carry pistols, don’t own a shotgun nor a rifle—no, his trade-mark, what you’ll find him packing in those tooled holsters, is always these twin sticks of dynamite, with a dozen more—” “Couple dozen, in big bandoliers across his chest.” “Easy fellow to recognize, then.” “You’d think so, but no two eyewitnesses have ever agreed. It’s like all that blasting rattles it loose from everybody’s memory.” “But say, couldn’t even a slow hand just gun him before he could get a fuse lit?” “Wouldn’t bet on it. Got this clever wind-proof kind of striker rig on to each holster, like a safety match, so all’s he has to do’s draw, and the ‘sucker’s all lit and ready to throw.” “Fast fuses, too. Some boys down the Uncompahgre found out about that just last August, nothin left to bury but spurs and belt buckles. Even old Butch Cassidy and them’ll begin to coo like a barn full of pigeons whenever the Kid’s in the county.” Of course, nobody ever’d been sure about who was in Butch Cassidy’s gang either. No shortage of legendary deeds up here, but eyewitnesses could never swear beyond a doubt who in each case, exactly, had done which, and, more than fear of retaliation—it was as if physical appearance actually shifted, causing not only aliases to be inconsistently assigned but identity itself to change. Did something, something essential, happen to human personality above a certain removal from sea level? Many quoted Dr. Lombroso’s observation about how lowland folks tended to be placid and law-abiding while mountain country bred revolutionaries and outlaws. That was over in Italy, of course. Theorizers about the recently discovered subconscious mind, reluctant to leave out any variable that might seem helpful, couldn’t avoid the altitude, and the barometric pressure that went with it. This was spirit, after all.
Thomas Pynchon (Against the Day)
Sixty years prior to the death of “Che” Guevara and high in the same Bolivian highlands, Butch Cassidy and Harry A. Longabaugh, “the Sundance kid,” were holed up and then gunned down by the Bolivian army. It is thought that being mortally wounded, one of them shot the other before shooting himself. Attempts to find any remains that match the DNA of living relatives, has so far failed. However, Butch Cassidy's sister, Lula Parker Betenson, maintained that her brother returned to the United States and lived in seclusion for years. In 1975, Red Fenwick, the feature writer and columnist at The Denver Post, stated that he was acquainted with Cassidy's physician, who continued to treat him for some years after he supposedly was killed in Bolivia.
Hank Bracker
Who are those guys?
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
I'm not crazy; I'm just colorful.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
Sundance: [to Etta] What I'm saying is, if you want to go, I won't stop you. But the minute you start to whine or make a nuisance, I don't care where we are, I'm dumping you flat. Butch: Don't sugarcoat it like that, Kid. Tell her straight.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
Morons. I've got morons on my team.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
When I say Bolivia, you just think California.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
Kid -- the next time I say, 'Let's go someplace like Bolivia,' let's go someplace like Bolivia.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
I got vision; the rest of the world is wearing bifocals.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)
Butch: What happened to the old bank? It was beautiful. Guard: People kept robbing it. Butch: Small price to pay for beauty.
William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay)