Alma Garrett: [on her claim] Is the technical term "bonanza"? [Seth nods] It's a bonanza, Mr. Farnum.

Barfly: I won't fuck Chinese; I got a mother living yet.
Hawkeye: She the jealous type?

Bill Hickok: If irritating me is the jackpot, you got the job done.

Blazanov: Fuck confidentiality of communication.
Al Swearengen: Why not fuck a woman instead?
Blazanov: Hope to, eventually.

Brom Garret: If I'm stooped when next you see me, Alma, it won't be worry weighing me down, but bags of our recovered gold.
Alma Garret: If you wish to see more of the West let's leave now and see it, or else return back to New York. I don't think we should linger here.

Calamity Jane: Everyday takes figuring out all over again how to fucking live.

Calamity Jane: I drink what I'm able. If that comes to much, that's the day's affair and the liquor's.

Calamity Jane: I'm calling on the widow and the little one in her care, and if I was you I wouldn't try to stop me.
E.B.: Be brief!
Calamity Jane: Be fucked!
E.B.: Her gutter mouth, and the widow in an opium stupor: a conversation for the ages.

Calamity Jane: Is it true? Indians killin' white people?
Dan: That's the sewer mouth that follows Hickok around.
Calamity Jane: Why are we standin' here?
Guy: Ridin' out tomorrow, daybreak.
Calamity Jane: Oh, really? Tomorrow. What's your fuckin' rush?! I'm goin' now. Even without Bill. Even without Charlie. I know the road to Spearfish. And I don't drink where I'm the only fuckin' one with balls!

Charlie Utter: Nigger General and Hostetler brung that horse back to camp that got away from ��em and trampled the Sheriff's boy.
Joanie Stubbs: Is that so?
Charlie Utter: Wherever the two of them was, I guess they didn't feel their lives were in enough danger.

Charlie Utter: One thing: if he knew it was coming, Bill [Hickock] was not shy of drawing first.
Sol: Seth locked up Hearst instead of that.
Charlie Utter: Oh, I get it.
Sol: What does that mean?
Charlie Utter: It means, Mr. Star, after leading him by the ear through camp for all to fucking see, Seth installs Hearst in a cell adjoining a man he's had killed, that the knife still protrudes out of his chest. And as much as me and Hearst conversed, I made him address my ass. So do let's don't pretend Hearst will feel he was treated legal or civilized, or that his business with us is finished. Hearst is fucking coming. Bringing us back to Bill and doing unto others first. Which ought maybe include a visit to Hearst's fucking diggings. And his muscle you fail to murder before they arouse? You bring to chase you to camp, Judas goat the cocksuckers, for Swearengen's men and Tolliver's to mow down from fucking ambush while we're up seeing to Hearst.
Sol: There'll be nothing left of the camp.
Charlie Utter: How much you figure will stand once Hearst had his fucking say?

Charlie Utter: [on burying a dead Native] You ain't doin' him no favor. I mean his way to heaven's above ground and lookin' west.
Seth Bullock: Let's do that, then.
Charlie Utter: Don't you want to take him over the ridge? To his fuckin' Holy Ground and put him up there with his headless buddy? I mean, that's what you nearly got killed for: interfering with his big fuckin' medicine, burying his fuckin' buddy, over the fuckin' ridge!

Charlie Utter: A letter come to hand I need to take to Bill's missus.. He wrote just before he got killed.
Seth Bullock: I see.
Charlie Utter: 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!
Seth Bullock: Hearst's geologist gave you the letter?
Charlie Utter: 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.
Seth Bullock: Was it over the letter you beat him the other day?
Charlie Utter: No, no. I give my word not to say what that was over. I'd best go, lest Mr. amalgamation & capital takes one through the fucking head.
Seth Bullock: What's the import of that expression?
Charlie Utter: 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.
Seth Bullock: I'll keep an eye on her.
Charlie Utter: 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.

Charlie Utter: New saloon in the camp, Jane?
Jane Cannary: I know that's some clever opening gambit to culminate in breaking my balls.
Charlie Utter: 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...
Jane 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.

Charlie Utter: Seeing you know about losing friends, you might be a good person to go on and talk to her.
Jane Cannary: How does standing in my own puke prompt you to volunteer me to give a condolence call?
Charlie Utter: Why fucking wouldn't it, Jane? You like being situated how you are?