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The mother of a severely traumatized daughter enlists the aid of a unique horse trainer to help the girl's equally injured horse.
Tom Booker: There was a boy from the Blackfeet reservation, he used to do some work around here for a while. Sixteen, strong kid, good kid. He and I were really, really good friends. One day he went swimming and dove headfirst into the lake... and right into a rock. And it snapped his neck, paralyzed him. And after the accident I'd look in on him from time to time. But he wasn't there. It was like his mind, his spirit, whatever you want to call it, just disappeared. The only thing left was just anger. Just sort of as if the... the boy I once knew just went somewhere else. Grace: I know where he goes. Tom Booker: I know you do. Don't you disappear. You do whatever you have to do to hold on.
Tom Booker: I didn't know that it was right to love her. I just loved her.
Tom Booker: Jogger, huh? Annie: I don't jog, Mr. Booker, I run. Tom Booker: Well that's lucky for you. The grizzlies around here mostly go for the joggers.
Tom Booker: Knowing is the easy part; saying it out loud is the hard part.
Tom Booker: [over the phone] Am I being too polite here when I say no in Nevada? Does that mean yes where you are?
Tom Booker: Do you ever sit still for just a minute? Annie: Well, you sit still too long in New York and you get renovated.
Grace: Are you afraid of anything, Tom Booker? Tom Booker: Of growing old. Being of no use.
[last lines] Annie: Can we have one last ride? Tom Booker: Yep. I'll saddle up.
Annie: I've heard you help people with horse problems. Tom Booker: Truth is, I help horses with people problems.
Annie: I've never been on a cow farm before. It seems to me that the bulls have the best time. Just laying around the fields waiting for someone to come along and ask them to do their work. Tom Booker: You get born a bull you have a 90% chance of being castrated. Served up as hamburger. So on balance, I reckon I'd choose bein' a cow.
Annie: [reading] A million years before man they grazed the vast empty plains, living by voices only they could hear. They first came to know man as the hunted knows the hunter. Before he used horses for his labors, he killed them for meat. The alliance with man would forever be fragile. For the fear he struck deep into their hearts was too deep to be dislodged. Since that neolithic moment when a horse was first haltered, there were those among men who understood this. They could see into the creature's soul and sooth the wounds they found there. The secrets uttered softly into troubled ears. These men were known as the Whisperers.
Grace: I've decided about Pilgrim. Annie: Oh. Grace: I think we should put him down. It's not fair to let him suffer. Annie: Well I think that's a very... Grace: And maybe we should put me down too.
Robert: Judith's dead. Annie: And what about Grace? Robert: She's in pretty bad shape.
Grace: Why do you always wear that hat? Joe Booker: Cuz it fits my head. Wanna try it on?
Annie: I had a hard time finding the place. There are no signs. Tom Booker: Oh, there are plenty of signs. Just not many of them printed.
Robert: How are you doing out there in Marlboro country?
[Tom walks up to Annie with two horses] Annie: The answer is 'no'. Tom Booker: I haven't even asked you the question yet!
Annie: I haven't ridden Western before. Tom Booker: Yeah, but he doesn't know that. Just sit on the horse.
[Upon having her leg amputated] Grace: Who's going to want me now?
Tom Booker: Is she going to be long? Grace: Probably, she's on the phone 23 hours a day. Tom Booker: What does she do? Grace: She's an editor. Tom Booker: An editor? Ah. Grace: Just in case she hasn't told you, which she probably hasn't, I don't want to be a part of this. Okay?
Annie: Don't they believe in signs around here? Grace: What would they say? Ten miles to big rock. Twenty miles to bigger rock.