Deadwood quotes
197 total quotesCharlie: [at Bill Hickock's grave] Evenin', Bill. Jane ain't with me, ��cause she's a drunken fuckin' mess, and I don't know what to do about it. I know you want her looked out for, and I'm doin' my fuckin' best. But I won't stand before you claimin' optimism. Other news. That letter you wrote your wife just before that cocksucker murdered you, it come to my hand. I won't even try explainin' fuckin' how. And knowin' what we know about our fucked up postal system, I ain't committin' it to the fuckin' mails. You know I will try to get it to her, which I pray'd be a portion off your mind. When I've found where she's at, on my way settin' off I'll tell you. All right. God bless you, Bill. [starts to leave and then turns back] And as far as Jane, as drunk as you've seen her, you've never seen her this worse. Between us, maybe havin' lost, wantin' to keep on. So I - I don't know what the fuck to do! But you know I'll-- I'll keep tryin.' [leaves]
Commissioner Jarry: And you, Mr. Wolcott, I find you the most severe disappointment of all.
Wolcott: Often to myself as well.
Wolcott: Often to myself as well.
Con: Hey, you ever hear, Tom, the Chinese whore has a ancient way of milking ya of yer sorrow, your loneliness and that awful feeling of bein' forsaken?
Tom: Seems to me that'd leave you with nothing.
Tom: Seems to me that'd leave you with nothing.
Cy Tolliver: [on seeing a gang of Pinkertons ride into camp] Take them amateurs off the fucking sugar tit. Mr. Hearst brought the pros to town.
Cy Tolliver: Now that's an attitude right there I want us to counsel on. Smart-alecky sort of attitude and almost with a quality of.. fuckin' anger to it. I don't find the exact fuckin' words for it, but it fuckin' disturbs and concerns me.
Francis Wolcott: By my lights, I feel I manage well.
Cy Tolliver: Well, you can say that, Mr. Wolcott, yet I hear accounts that you're a dangerous lay, and that adds to my feeling disturbed. Are you inclined, sir, every so often to.. 'ride one off the cliff'? Girls, I mean.
Francis Wolcott: I am disturbed at my private conduct being spoken of.
Cy Tolliver: Well, I should think you fuckin' would be. And to think of Mr. Hearst's disturbance if he was to fuckin' know. Because, that's a dangerous habit to indulge when you're not among friends.
Francis Wolcott: Are you my friend, Mr. Tolliver?
Cy Tolliver: And someone past surprise at habits or inclination, or turns of events, and who don't confuse himself far as sitting in judgment with our Lord in fuckin' heaven.
Francis Wolcott: I see
Cy Tolliver: And who would never tattle to your employer or jeopardize what's got to be a handsome fuckin' income. God damn right, I am your friend, Mr. Wolcott. All I can't provide for the party is the cliff.
Francis Wolcott: Believing yourself past surprise does not commend you to me as a friend. A man inadequately sophisticated or merely ignorant, or simply stupid, may believe himself past surprise, then be surprised to discover, for example, that Mr. Hearst already knows of my inclinations and finds them immaterial. Suggesting as a corollary that your skills for blackmail and manipulation no longer are assets to you, and for your fatuous belief in their efficacy, in fact have become liabilities. In short, you've overplayed your hand. Now I should think, in consequence, now recognizing yourself as a man past his time, that during this last transitional period you would devote yourself with grateful and quiet diligence to such uses as others may still find you suitable.
Francis Wolcott: By my lights, I feel I manage well.
Cy Tolliver: Well, you can say that, Mr. Wolcott, yet I hear accounts that you're a dangerous lay, and that adds to my feeling disturbed. Are you inclined, sir, every so often to.. 'ride one off the cliff'? Girls, I mean.
Francis Wolcott: I am disturbed at my private conduct being spoken of.
Cy Tolliver: Well, I should think you fuckin' would be. And to think of Mr. Hearst's disturbance if he was to fuckin' know. Because, that's a dangerous habit to indulge when you're not among friends.
Francis Wolcott: Are you my friend, Mr. Tolliver?
Cy Tolliver: And someone past surprise at habits or inclination, or turns of events, and who don't confuse himself far as sitting in judgment with our Lord in fuckin' heaven.
Francis Wolcott: I see
Cy Tolliver: And who would never tattle to your employer or jeopardize what's got to be a handsome fuckin' income. God damn right, I am your friend, Mr. Wolcott. All I can't provide for the party is the cliff.
Francis Wolcott: Believing yourself past surprise does not commend you to me as a friend. A man inadequately sophisticated or merely ignorant, or simply stupid, may believe himself past surprise, then be surprised to discover, for example, that Mr. Hearst already knows of my inclinations and finds them immaterial. Suggesting as a corollary that your skills for blackmail and manipulation no longer are assets to you, and for your fatuous belief in their efficacy, in fact have become liabilities. In short, you've overplayed your hand. Now I should think, in consequence, now recognizing yourself as a man past his time, that during this last transitional period you would devote yourself with grateful and quiet diligence to such uses as others may still find you suitable.
Dan:I'm older, and I'm much less friendly to fuckin' change.
Al Swearengen:Change ain't lookin' for friends. Change calls the tune we dance to.
Al Swearengen:Change ain't lookin' for friends. Change calls the tune we dance to.
Dan: Sometimes I hear you speakin' in here when I know there's nobody in here but you.
Al: You have not yet reached the age, Dan, have you, where you're moved to utterance of thoughts properly kept silent?
Dan: Been known to mutter.
Al: Not the odd mutter. Habitual fuckin' vocalizing of thoughts best kept to yourself. I will confide further. Lately... I talk to this package: the severed rotting head I paid bounty on last year of that murdered fuckin' Indian.
Al: You have not yet reached the age, Dan, have you, where you're moved to utterance of thoughts properly kept silent?
Dan: Been known to mutter.
Al: Not the odd mutter. Habitual fuckin' vocalizing of thoughts best kept to yourself. I will confide further. Lately... I talk to this package: the severed rotting head I paid bounty on last year of that murdered fuckin' Indian.
Doc Cochran: Do you speak Chinese?
Francis Wolcott: I do not, sir.
Doc Cochran: However you accomplish communication with that son of a bitch, then the more the disgrace to your soul!
Francis Wolcott: I do not, sir.
Doc Cochran: However you accomplish communication with that son of a bitch, then the more the disgrace to your soul!
Doc Cochran: I don't know if this is the time for you to stop takin' this laudanum, Mrs. Garrett.
Alma Garret: What a pleasant surprise, doctor. To hear you admit the limits of your knowledge.
Alma Garret: What a pleasant surprise, doctor. To hear you admit the limits of your knowledge.
Doc Cochran: I see as much misery outta them movin' to justify their selves as them that set out to do harm.
Doc Cochran: I take it you've been out on a hoot?
Calamity Jane: I've been drunk awhile; correct. What the fuck is that to you?
Doc Cochran: The question was well meant. Like if you was a farmer, I'd ask ya how the farming was going.
Calamity Jane: I've been drunk awhile; correct. What the fuck is that to you?
Doc Cochran: The question was well meant. Like if you was a farmer, I'd ask ya how the farming was going.
Doc Cochran: Jane, for me the female breast long ago lost mystery or allure. Open your goddamn blouse.
Calamity Jane: I'll keep my fucking eyes shut, but I'll know every fucking move you make.
Calamity Jane: I'll keep my fucking eyes shut, but I'll know every fucking move you make.
Doc Cochran: You, Al, are an object lesson in the healing powers of obstinacy and a hostile disposition.
E.B. Farnham: [describing Mrs Ellsworth to Hearst] A haughty cunt. Formerly weak for dope. Most fundamentally a sexual peccant, though I'm sworn against providing specifics.