"Tell you what, we could have had a good life together, a fuckin’ real good life. You wouldn’t do it, Ennis, so what we got now is Brokeback Mountain. Everything built on that. It’s all we got, boy, fuckin’ all, so I hope you know that if you don’t never know the rest. Count the damn few times we been together in twenty years. Measure the fuckin’ short leash you keep me on, then ask me about Mexico and then tell me you’ll kill me for needing it and not harldly never getting it. You have no fuckin’ idea how bad it gets. I’m not you. I can’t make it on a couple of high-altitude fucks once or twice a year. You’re too much for me, Ennis, you son of a whoreson bitch. I wish I knew how to quit you."
— Jack Twist; Brokeback Mountain.