The Best Horst Buchholz Quotes

Chico: They're afraid. She's afraid of me, you, him. All of us. Farmers! Their families told them we would rape them.
Chris: Well, we might. But in my opinion you might have given us the benefit of the doubt. But just as you please...

Guido: Dr. Lessing!
Dr. Lessing: Hello!
[notices the flowers]
Dr. Lessing: What are the flowers for?
Guido: [thinks fast] Ah... for your departure!
[hands him the flowers]
Dr. Lessing: Thank you!

[Britt has just shot a fleeing bandit off his horse]
Chico: Ah, that was the greatest shot I've ever seen.
Britt: The worst! I was aiming at the horse.

Dr. Lessing: [softly reciting riddle at Nazi concentration camp officers' mess] Fat, fat, ugly, ugly, all yellow in reality. If you ask me what I am, I reply "Quark quark quark".
[looks around surreptitiously]
Dr. Lessing: Walking along, I go "Por-por". Who am I? Tell me true.
Guido: [looks at Doctor Lessing in stunned silence]
Dr. Lessing: [smiles] Hmphh... a duckling, no?
Guido: [nods silently, still flabbergasted]
Dr. Lessing: Is it not a duckling?
[angrily]
Dr. Lessing: It's not! A veterinarian friend of mine sent it to me from Vienna. I can't send him mine, until I solve this one. I thought: Duck-billed platypus. But it doesn't go "Quark quark quark quark". A duck-billed platypus goes...
[pulls at corners of mouth with fingers, making a blowing sound]
Dr. Lessing: "Ffrrr ffrrr-ffrrr ffrrr-ffrrr". Duck-billed platypus...
[steps forward and whispers into Guido's ear]
Dr. Lessing: I translated it into Italian for you last night. Well, what do you say? Everything points to a duckling!
[assumes tragic tone and expression]
Dr. Lessing: Help me, Guido. For heaven's sake, help me. I can't even sleep.
[turns to side counter, talking to self]
Dr. Lessing: Fat, fat... ugly, ugly... that's me... quark quark quark... It's the duckling!
[wails and thumps side counter in frustration]
Guido: [slowly and silently walks away, crestfallen at Doctor Lessing's callous, comic-tragic behavior]

Chico: Villages like this they make up a song about every big thing that happens. Sing them for years.
Chris: You think it's worth it?
Chico: Don't you?
Chris: It's only a matter of knowing how to shoot a gun. Nothing big about that.
Chico: Hey. How can you talk like this? Your gun has got you everything you have. Isn't that true? Hmm? Well, isn't that true?
Vin: Yeah, sure. Everything. After awhile you can call bartenders and faro dealers by their first name - maybe two hundred of 'em! Rented rooms you live in - five hundred! Meals you eat in hash houses - a thousand! Home - none! Wife - none! Kids... none! Prospects - zero. Suppose I left anything out?
Chris: Yeah. Places you're tied down to - none. People with a hold on you - none. Men you step aside for - none.
Lee: Insults swallowed - none. Enemies - none.
Chris: No enemies?
Lee: Alive.
Chico: Well. This is the kind of arithmetic I like.
Chris: Yeah. So did I at your age.

Dr. Lessing: I have something important to tell you. Wait for my signal.