“Gold is gold. Even the flames from the candles on board the ship sputter as the night draws to an end. There is no permanence to flame. Gold lasts forever. I looked in the bag. There was more than gold in that bag, my hearty. There was silver. There were jewels. Coins. There were precious stones of every colour. There was a dagger in the bag with red stones on its handle. I fancied that dagger as soon as I saw it. There were pewter forks and knives. There were plates. Fine ones, they were. There were pistols in the bag, and one of the pistols was so small that it fit into the palm of my hand.”

—Edward Chupak, Silver: My Own Tale as Written by Me with a Goodly Amount of Murder, 2008.