Llewelyn Moss: If I don't come back, tell mother I love her.

Carla Jean Moss: Your mother's dead, Llewelyn.

Llewelyn Moss: Well I'll tell her myself then.

Anton Chigurh: What's the most you ever lost on a coin toss.

Gas Station Proprietor: Sir?

Anton Chigurh: The most. You ever lost. On a coin toss.

Gas Station Proprietor: I don't know. I couldn't say.

[Chigurh flips a quarter from the change on the counter and covers it with his hand]

Anton Chigurh: Call it.

Gas Station Proprietor: Call it?

Anton Chigurh: Yes.

Gas Station Proprietor: For what?

Anton Chigurh: Just call it.

Gas Station Proprietor: Well, we need to know what we're calling it for here.

Anton Chigurh: You need to call it. I can't call it for you. It wouldn't be fair.

Gas Station Proprietor: I didn't put nothin' up.

Anton Chigurh: Yes, you did. You've been putting it up your whole life you just didn't know it. You know what date is on this coin?

Gas Station Proprietor: No.

Anton Chigurh: 1958. It's been traveling twenty-two years to get here. And now it's here. And it's either heads or tails. And you have to say. Call it.

Gas Station Proprietor: Look, I need to know what I stand to win.

Anton Chigurh: Everything.

Gas Station Proprietor: How's that?

Anton Chigurh: You stand to win everything. Call it.

Gas Station Proprietor: Alright. Heads then.

[Chigurh removes his hand, revealing the coin is indeed heads]

Anton Chigurh: Well done.

[the gas station proprietor nervously takes the quarter with the small pile of change he's apparently won while Chigurh starts out]

Anton Chigurh: Don't put it in your pocket, sir. Don't put it in your pocket. It's your lucky quarter.

Gas Station Proprietor: Where do you want me to put it?

Anton Chigurh: Anywhere not in your pocket. Where it'll get mixed in with the others and become just a coin. Which it is.

[Chigurh leaves and the gas station proprietor stares at him as he walks out]

Wendell: You know, there might not have been no money.

Ed Tom Bell: That's possible.

Wendell: But you don't believe it.

Ed Tom Bell: No. Probably I don't.

Wendell: It's a mess, ain't it, sheriff?

Ed Tom Bell: If it ain't, it'll do till the mess gets here.

Wendell: You think this boy Moss got any notion of the sorts that're huntin' him?

Ed Tom Bell: I don't know, he ought to. He's seen the same things I've seen, and it's certainly made an impression on me.

Man who hires Wells: Just how dangerous is he?

Carson Wells: Compared to what? The bubonic plague?