The Conversation

I'm tired of this lying, all right. I'm tired of lies!

The Conversation, CC BY-SA 4.0

Stanley: Who's interested in these two, anyway? Harry: I don't know for sure. Stanley: The Justice Department? Harry: No. Stanley: Then I figure it must be the Infernal Revenue. Their tapes always put me to sleep. Harry: Since when are you here to be entertained? Stanley: Sometimes it's nice to know what they're talking about. Harry: I don't care what they're talking about. All I want is a nice fat recording.

The Conversation, CC BY-SA 4.0

Ann: I don't know what I'm gonna get him for Christmas yet. He's already got everything. Mark: He doesn't need anything anymore. Ann: Well, I haven't decided what I'm gonna get you yet. Mark: Better start looking. Ann: What about me? Mark: You'll see. Ann: A lot of fun you are. You're supposed to tease me, give me hints, make me guess, you know. Mark: Does it bother you? Ann: What? Mark: Walking around in circles. Ann: [spotting a derelict on the park bench] Oh look, that's terrible. Mark: He's not hurting anyone. Ann: Neither are we. Oh God. Every time I see one of those old guys, I-I always think the same thing. Mark: What do you think? Ann: I always think that he was once somebody's baby boy...and he had a mother and a father who loved him. And now, there he is, half-dead on a park bench and where is his mother or his father or his uncles now? Anyway, that's what I always think. Mark: I always think of how when they had the newspaper strike in New York, more of those old guys died.

The Conversation, CC BY-SA 4.0

Amy: Does something special happen between us on your birthday? Harry: Like what? Amy: Something personal. Harry: What? Amy: Like, uhm, telling me about yourself. Your secrets? Harry: I don't have any secrets. Amy: I'm your secret. You do have secrets, Harry? I know you do. Sometimes you come over here and you don't tell me. Once I saw you up by the staircase, hiding and watching for a whole hour. You think you're gonna catch me at something, you know? I know when you come over. I can always tell. You have a certain way of opening up the door. You know, first the key goes in real quiet, and then the door comes open real fast, just like you think you're gonna catch me at something. Sometimes I even think you're listening to me when I'm talking on the telephone. Harry: What are you talking about? Amy: I don't know. I just feel it. Really, I do.

The Conversation, CC BY-SA 4.0

Amy: Where do you work, Harry? Harry: Oh, in different places, different jobs. I'm kinda a musician. A free-lance musician. Amy: Where do you live? And why can't I call you over there? Harry: 'Cause I don't have a telephone. Amy: Do you live alone? Harry: Why are you asking me all these questions? Amy: Because it's your birthday. Harry: I don't want people to ask me a lot of questions. Amy: I want to know you. Harry: Yes, I know you want to. I don't feel like answering any more questions.

The Conversation, CC BY-SA 4.0

Harry: You never used to ask a lot of questions. Amy: Harry, I was so happy when you came over tonight. When I heard you open up the door, my toes were dancing under the covers. But I don't think I'm gonna wait for you anymore.

The Conversation, CC BY-SA 4.0