Doc: I love you Lula Mae.
Holly: I know you do, and that's just the trouble. It's the mistake you always made, Doc, trying to love a wild thing. You were always lugging home wild things. Once it was a hawk with a broken wing... and another time it was a full-grown wildcat with a broken leg. Remember?
Doc: Lula Mae there's something...
Holly: You musn't give your heart to a wild thing. The more you do, the stronger they get, until they're strong enough to run into the woods or fly into a tree. And then to a higher tree and then to the sky.

Holly: Did I tell you how divinely and utterly happy I am?
Paul: Yes.

Holly: 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: Tiffany's? You mean the jewelry store.
Holly: That's right. I'm just CRAZY about Tiffany's!

Holly: 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: In a minute.
Holly: I guess it's pretty lucky neither of us is rich, huh?
Paul: Yeah.

Holly: Thursday! It can't be! It's too gruesome!
Paul: What's so gruesome about Thursday?
Holly: Nothing, except I can never remember when it's coming up.

Holly: What do you do, anyway?
Paul: I'm a writer, I guess.
Holly: You guess? Don't you know?
Paul: OK, positive statement. Ringing affirmative. I'm a writer.

Holly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
Paul: Sure.
Holly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!

O.J.: Hey, Fred-baby!
Paul: No, no. It's Paul-baby.

Paul: I love you.
Holly: So what.
Paul: So what? So plenty! I love you, you belong to me!
Holly: [tearfully] No. People don't belong to people.
Paul: Of course they do!
Holly: I'll never let ANYBODY put me in a cage.
Paul: I don't want to put you in a cage, I want to love you!

Paul: They're not the kind of stories you can really tell.
Holly: Too dirty?
Paul: Yeah, I suppose they're dirty, too, but only incidentally. Mainly they're angry, sensitive, intensely felt, and that dirtiest of all dirty words - promising. Or so said The Times Book Review, October 1, 1956.

[to Paul] Ahh... Do I detect a look of disapproval in your eye? Tough beans buddy, 'cause that's the way it's gonna be.

And I always heard people in New York never get to know their neighbors.

But I am mad about Jose. I honestly think I'd give up smoking if he asked me.

But oh golly! Gee damn!

I don't think I've ever drunk champagne before breakfast before. With breakfast on several occasions, but never before, before.