Johnny: I wish you'd look in on Dan, boss. Not for being poorly as... down.
Al Swearengen: Johnny... some shit's best walked through alone.
Johnny: Dan's killed people before. You have too. But neither've been solitary after
Al Swearengen: A fair fight, something Dan and I have always struggled to avoid, is different. You see the light go out in their eyes. It's just you left, and death.

Johnny: If it's gettin' to go wrong, Dan, you just drop flat.
Dan: What the fuck did you just say?
Johnny: Drop flat if it's going wrong, and I'll blow his fucking head off
Dan: You do and it'll be the last goddamn thing you do on this fucking earth. Going wrong is not the end of fucking things, Johnny. Fuck no! I have come back from plenty of shit that looked like it was going wrong.

Langrishe: Shall I accompany as your second? My obvious unsuitability might confuse him.

Martha Bullock: This roof over our heads, Mr. Bullock, testifies to your care for William and me. The fostering affection and guidance you show my son to shape him into a man will only deepen my gratitude to you. As for myself, no further demonstrations are necessary as.. other duties claim your attentions.
Seth Bullock: None such as you conceive since your arrival, nor will they again, whatever the state of our relations.
Martha Bullock: Do not sacrifice further on my account, Mr. Bullock. I reject the offering. I repudiate it! I find it poisonous!

Merrick: [To Charlie about Wild Bill Hickok] What a grand surprise. I never thought he'd live long enough for me to meet him.

Merrick: Lot, before God, could make no case for that food.
Mary: Lot's wife may have been in that food.

Merrick: The economic aspect is one fabric in the tapestry of journalism.
Swearengen: Ass-fucking the dirt worshippers being another? A pleasure beyond gain.
Merrick: Now, now, now.
Swearengen: Oh, is that your Heathen imitation? Jump up and down and give a few whoops, as in "Whoop, that ass fucking hurts."

Miles: They're nice here. And Mr. Swearengen's funny as all hell.

Morgan: They have their fuckin' fun with you, and in the morning, they treat you like dirt.
Wyatt: [chuckles] And you a fucking virgin...
Morgan: No, and not pretending to be.
Wyatt: ...to be wounded by her callous ways.
Morgan: All I'm saying is she could have been nicer, and those steerers more fuckin' polite.

Mose Manuel: That easy, to forget a fucking brother!?
Francis Wolcott: Money has properties in this regard! ..Though no remedy is discovered yet sovereign against sentimental remorse.

Otis Russell: [To E.B.] It must cost you sleep, the guests you drive off, the chances of thievin' and bilkin' you lose needing to rub against your betters.

Reverend Smith: Men like Mr. Seth Bullock there raise the camp up.
Johnny: Yeah, the fella to be put in that box might argue with you, Reverend.
Reverend Smith: Ah, Mr. Bullock did not draw first. And I, point to his commissioning me to build the departed a coffin and, and see to his Christian burial.

Reverend Smith: This is God's purpose, but not knowing the purpose is my portion of suffering.
Doc Cochran: If this is His will, He is a son of a bitch.

Richardson: I like you.
Alma: Thank you, Richardson.
Richardson: You're purdy.
Alma: Thank you very much. And probably that's all either of us needs to say on that subject ever again.

Rider: God bless you, Mr. Swearengen.
Swearengen: Well, not likely. But my short-term prospects have just improved.