Listen, Paul: it’s not only the money, though thirty-two hundred is a lot, but it would be the same if it was five bucks. I go two months without winning a bet and that gets me down. What good am I if my luck’s gone? Then I cop, or think I do, and I’m all right again. I can take my tail out from between my legs and feel that I’m a person again and not just something that’s being kicked around. The money’s important enough, but it’s not the real thing. It’s what losing and losing and losing does to me. Can you get that? Its getting me licked. And then, when I think I’ve worn out the jinx, this guy takes a Mickey Finn on me. I can’t stand for it. If I stand for it I’m licked, my nerve’s gone. I’m not going to stand for it. I’m going after him. I’m going regardless, but you can smooth the way a lot by fixing me up.
-by Dashiell Hammett
Going for the Throat 