As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster.
You're... from Baker... Tell Baker that I told him all that I know already.
We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold.
My favorite, more than a sentence though, more an opening speech...
I'm talkin' about friendship. I'm talkin' about character. I'm talkin' about...hell, Leo, I ain't embarassed to use the word...I'm talkin' about ethics. You know I'm a sporting man. I like to make the occasional bet. But I ain't that sporting.
When I fix a fight... Say I pay a three to one favorite, to throw a goddamned fight. I figure I got the right to expect that fight to go off at three to one. But every time I lay in bed with this son of a ***** Bernie Bernbaum, before I know it, the odds is even up. Or worse, I'm bettin' on the short money.
The sheeny knows I like sure things. He's sellin' the information I fixed the fight. Out of town money comes pouring in. The odds go straight to hell. I don't know who he's sellin' to...maybe the Los Angeles combine. I don't know. The point is, Bernie ain't satisfied with the honest dollar he can make off the vig. He ain't satisfied with the business I do on his book. He is sellin' tips on how I bet. And that means part of the payoff that should be riding on my hip...is riding on someone else's.
So, back we go to these questions...friendship, character, ethics. So, it's clear what I'm saying? It's gettin' so a businessman can't expect no return from a fixed fight. Now, if you can't trust a fix, what can you trust? For a good return, you gotta go bettin' on chance, and then you're back with anarchy. Right back in the jungle.