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.

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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.

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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.

Paul Varjak: Holly, you’re drunk.
Holly Golightly: True.