This is for you Meade, all of Al's qoutes in one spot

The Wit and Wisdom of Al Swearengen:

On the controversy of the Rev. Jesse Jackson saying he wanted to cut off Barack Obama’s balls:

Announcing your plans is a good way to hear God laugh.

Has he not yet reached the age, where you’re moved to utterance of thoughts properly kept silent? 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. Perhaps the reverand might acquire a similar accessory. To aid in his prospects and to avoid future embarassments.

Perhaps he can acquire the beet red head of that former President. He hasn't made use of it in quite some time.Well, the big head anyways.

No off premises fucking. Either you pay or she pays. Five dollars. Seven for ass fucking.

Can we still use San Fransico cock sucker?As a location of origin but not as an avocation chief.Even the decaptitated like to have their heads rubbed now and again.

In life you have to do a lot of things you don't fucking want to do. Many times, that's what the fuck life is.. one vile fucking task after another. But don't get aggravated.... then the enemy has you by the short-hairs.

It wouldn’t be the worst thing; backing a loser. 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, sir." The race does not always go to swift and the fight does not always go to the mighty. Sometimes a hooplehead can get lucky. Through mere happenstance.

On the topic of race hustlers:

I used to have a race hustler in my employ who encouraged the hoopleheads to bet the favorite in a race when I had a ringer who looked like an old tired nag but was fleet of foot. Of course I can't tell you his moniker as it is out of fashion, hence I had to demote him to African American corporal.

I have had occasion to use race rustlers where I send the whores to tempt the hoopleheads to games of chance that are outside of their realm of experiance. To rustle them away from their commonplaces so to speak.It's how I won the laundry from Wu. I had the whores tempt them into betting on the dog races. So they were interested in the speed of the dog. Not the taste.

It has been my considered experience with Wu and assorted chinamen... that you can dig all you want and not reach china...but if you swing a dead cat...you might get an appetizer.

The legs you hear rubbing together are not crickets. Its the hoopleheads rubbing their pates and their grimy legs as they contemplate matters beyond their keen. That why I only like to converse with the severed head of a heathen savage. Less complicated that way. Even the decapitated are entitled to some amiable discourse of an evening.