Paul Varjak: Holly, you’re drunk.
Holly Golightly: True.
Paul Varjak: I love you.
Holly Golightly: So what.
Paul Varjak: So what? So plenty!
Holly Golightly: But I am mad about Jose. I honestly think I’d give up smoking if he asked me.
Paul Varjak: And I always heard people in New York never get to know their neighbors.
Mag Wildwood: You know what’s gonna happen to you? I am gonna march you over to the zoo and feed you to the yak.
Holly Golightly: But just look at the goodies she brought with her.
Paul Varjak: He’s all right, I suppose, if you like dark, handsome, rich-looking men with passionate natures and too many teeth.
Holly Golightly: I’ve got to do something about the way I look. I mean a girl just can’t go to Sing Sing with a green face.
Holly Golightly: I’m not hotfooting it after Jose, if that’s what you think. Oh no. As far as I’m concerned he’s the future president of nowhere.
Holly Golightly: How do I look?
Paul Varjak: Very good. I must say, I’m amazed.
Holly Golightly: He’s all right! Aren’t you, cat? Poor cat! Poor slob! Poor slob without a name! The way I see it I haven’t got the right to give him one. We don’t belong to each other. We just took up one day by the river. I don’t want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together. I’m not sure where that is but I know what it is like. It’s like Tiffany’s.
Paul Varjak: Tiffany’s? You mean the jewelry store.
Holly Golightly: That’s right. I’m just crazy about Tiffany’s!
Holly Golightly: I’ll tell you one thing, Fred, darling… I’d marry you for your money in a minute. Would you marry me for my money?
Paul Varjak: In a minute.
Holly Golightly: I guess it’s pretty lucky neither of us is rich, huh?
Paul Varjak: Yeah.
Holly Golightly: Did I tell you how divinely and utterly happy I am?
Paul Varjak: Yes.
Holly Golightly: Thursday! It can’t be! It’s too gruesome!
Paul Varjak: What’s so gruesome about Thursday?
Holly Golightly: Nothing, except I can never remember when it’s coming up.
Holly Golightly: You could always tell what kind of a person a man thinks you are by the earrings he gives you. I must say, the mind reels.
Holly Golightly: Mag Wildwood. She’s a model, believe it or not, and a thumping bore.
Paul Varjak: You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You’re chicken, you’ve got no guts. You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, “Okay, life’s a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.” You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.
Holly Golightly: It should take you exactly four seconds to cross from here to that door. I’ll give you two.
Paul Varjak: I don’t think I’ve ever drunk champagne before breakfast before. With breakfast on several occasions, but never before, before.
Paul Varjak: Sing Sing?
Holly Golightly: Yes. I always thought it was a ridiculous name for a prison. Sing Sing, I mean. Sounds more like it should be an opera house or something.