Mary 'Swan' RutledgeI see a lot of fog and a few lights. I like when life's hidden. Gives you a chance to imagine nice things. Nicer than they are.
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Mary 'Swan' RutledgeMen of vision! Oh, I love the fine names men give each other to hide their greed and lust for adventure. I'm amazed at your idealism, Colonel Cobb.
Col. Marcus Aurelius CobbNewspaper men are either drunkards or idealist, Miss Rutledge. I'm afraid I'm both. However soiled his hands the journalist goes staggering through life with the beacon raised.
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Mary 'Swan' RutledgeI like the fog. I like this new world. I like the noise of something happening. No, San Francisco is no place for a bad loser, man or woman. Dan Morgan was a bad loser. I'm not. I'm staying. I'm tired of dreaming, Colonel Cobb. I'm staying. I'm staying and holding out my hands for gold. Bright yellow gold.
Mary 'Swan' RutledgePlease, I'd like to remember it just like this: the rain, the fog, and a poet from Gramercy Park, with his bags of gold. Let's just leave it that way.
Mary 'Swan' RutledgeLook at me Louie. Look in my eyes. What do you see? It isn't pretty, is it? Well, I'm just what you see there. Oh, take what you can get and let it go at that. Let's enjoy our mud puddle!
Jim CarmichaelWould you mind very much if I looked at you if I promise not to faint. Say, you're pretty wet, Ma'am. Don't you think you ought to hang those clothes of yours in front of the fire to dry?
Jim CarmichaelYes. Shipping out like Sinbad with his loot. Here it is. You know, I've been pokin' around for this silly stuff for about two years. I keep expecting it to vanish like the figments of a dream. But, its safe now. That is, if I can get by the harpies of San Francisco.
Mary 'Swan' RutledgeWell, say it to somebody else! Not me. I've seen quite enough of you for one day or for one lifetime!
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Jim CarmichaelI'm stupid. Love's the only thing I've thought of or read about since I was knee-high. That's what I've always dreamed of. Of meeting somebody and falling in love. And when that remarkable thing happened, I was going to recite poetry to her for hours, about how her heart's an angel's wing and her hair the strings of a heavenly harp. Instead, I got drunk and hollered at her and called her a harpy. I'm pretty stupid.
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Jim CarmichaelListen to me. There's something inside of people that can't be touched. They can stand in mud up to their necks, but, that thing inside stays bright and shiny.