Jayne: About time you broke in them fancy shoes. Hyah! Get along!
Mal: You know, they walk just as easy if you lead ’em.
Jayne: I like smackin’ ’em.

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Mal: Can’t get paid if you’re dead.
Jayne: Can’t get paid if you crawl away like a bitty little bug neither. I got a share of this job! Ten percent of nothin’ is – let me do the math here – nothin’ into nothin’, carry the…

Mal: Now I did a job. I got nothing but trouble since I did it, not to mention more than a few unkind words as regard to my character, so let me make this abundantly clear. I do the job. And then I get paid.

Sheriff: It’s funny your uncle never went to mentioning the Bowden’s problem. Or that Joey Bloggs ate his own gun, about eight months back.
Mal: Did he?
Sheriff: Yep. Blew the back of his head right off.
Mal: So… would his job be open?

Mal: Mercy is the mark of a great man. (He lightly stabs Atherton) Guess I’m just a good man. (He stabs him again) Well, I’m all right.

Mal: They let us come, and they let us go. What kind of ident card gets us that kind of reception and send-off?
Book: I am a Shepherd. Folks like a man of God.
Mal: No, they don’t. Men of God make everyone feel guilty and judged.