And you know who fucking give it to me? How crazy life got? And money must buy these bastards any fucking thing they want! That cocksucker inside, Mr. amalgamation & fucking capital!
And god knows who he fucking bought it off of or how many hands it passed through. It fucks me up thinking Bill's missus got to handle something that cocksucker touched.
Do I look like I'd fucking know? Some big-shot eastern magazine reporter interviewing Bill said that was what's changing things around. Jane, I don't know what's gonna come of fucking Jane.
You should lock her in that cell and don't let her fucking drink! And don't fuck yourself up over Mose Manuel. He will get hisself fleeced of what is rightfully his and what he got by fuckin' murder. He'll be judge on hisself and jury too, just like the fucking most of us.
Just saying I checked the usual spots 'cause I wanted to say goodbye before I left camp, so in case you go ahead and fucking die...
JCJane Cannary
Goodbye, Charlie, goodbye. Have a good fucking trip. Shut the fuck up! 'Cause it so happens, when you return, if no trees of animals killed you, that you were fucking driving crazy with criticism, you will find I've moved out of this shitbox, so I don't have to fucking embarrass you or fucking have you hovering over me like the ugliest fucking nurse in the fucking universe.
Mrs. Garret writ me a letter saying how yesterday she lost her temper with you somewhat, and judgment, she tipped she was on to you being a Pinkerton. Oh, being bright, I expect you concluded it was me must have told her, meaning maybe I had sold over to her, and with my allegiance now in question, I expect you wired the Pinkerton big-shots, arguing you oughtn't sign any documents that might be able to prove that you, the agency, and Mrs. Garret's fucking in-laws hired me to lay at Mrs. Garret's doorstep the murder of her husband.
IMiss Isringhausen
And further, Mr. Swearengen, that as to purchase of your allegiance, now in question, they might wish to keep the bidding open.
Bidding is open always on everyone, Miss Isringhausen. But I expect you understand, knowing as I do, should Mrs. Garret lose her claim, rather than operate it themselves, her cunt in-laws will sell to third-party cocksuckers inimical to the whole of my interests in this camp! To buy my allegiance against myself, in-law cunts and shit-heel operators would have to bid very high indeed.
That applies to you most, fuckin' sittin' in that chair distracting my fuckin' thinking. If I have to come over there, I'll cut your fuckin' throat for you, pen yet put to paper or not.
I do not, my friend Adams, take it up the ass... But I suspect those that do, do so because they consider they advance their own interests. Shall we not, like them, pursue our mutual gratification?
Before his present troubles and whilst you pursued your preferred activities, your partner Bullock joined in a campaign to which I hope you will now subscribe.
It wouldn't be the worst thing, backing a loser to Hearst. Let him pick me up from the canvas after, dust me the fuck off. I raise the great man's hand and murmur, best as I can through split lips, "Your man beat my man's balls off, Mr. Hearst." But Hearst's chink boss in that alley ain't to my fuckin' taste. So what if something delays the battle of the chinks? Say, durin' that interval I get to show my ass a few times to Mr. Hearst. Meanwhile, that pain in the balls Wu is sketching up a storm, drawin' fuckin' little pictures of himself brandishin' the lash, drivin' from a delivery ship a quota of chinks to be blown to pieces by dynamite working in the mines for Hearst at half the fee, per chink, that Hearst is paying the San Francisco cocksucker. Now, by this time Hearst has seen my ass so many times, he knows I'm no long-term threat. So some brief opposition of our interests ain't gonna make him feel like he needs to engage me in a death struggle, say, by opposin' local elections. Those circumstances, we can risk backing Wu, and the great man figures, "I am damaged by neither outcome. Why not retire to a neutral corner and test my import against the locals?"
I've wished sometimes only to play checkers or to occupy myself some other way than having to see and feel so much sadness, or feel every moment how difficult things are, to understand or to live with. I've sometimes felt I couldn't live with them, but I find I can, Sofia. I've found I am, even when I think I'm not or that I can't. Can you look to me now, Sofia? Can you try? I will be so grateful if you will trust me with your sadness, and I will trust you with mine, so that even when we are sad we will be grateful for how much we love each other, and know that we are in the world as much in our pain as in our happiness.
