frank (beginning to undress -- putting his coat on the back of a chair) No, I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning, before I leave.

Carp: Going away again?

Frank: South. Tex-tiles. There's hell down there in tex-tiles. (He sits on the other side of the room and looks at a paper.)

Carp: I don't begin to understand it -- tex-tiles! What's it his business if the workers in tex-tiles don't make good wages!

Mr. Bonaparte: Frank, he fight-a for eat, for good life. Why not!

Joe: With music I'm never alone when I'm alone -- Playing music ... that's like saying, "I am man. I belong here. How do you do, World -- good evening!" When I play music nothing is closed to me. I'm not afraid of people and what they say. There's no war in music. It's not like the streets. Does this sound funny?

Lorna: No.

Joe: But when you leave your room ... down in the street ... it's war! Music can't help me there. Understand?

Joe: What's on your mind, Lorna?

Lorna: What's on yours?

Joe (simply): You ... You're real for me -- the way music was real.

Joe: He's a manager! He treats me like a possession! I'm just a little silver mine for him -- he bangs me around with a shovel!

Lorna: He's helped you --

Joe: No, Tokio's helped me. Why don't you give him up? It's terrible to have just a Tuesday-night girl. Why don't you belong to me every night in the week? Why don't you teach me love? ... Or am I being a fool?

Joe: [...] Why can't you leave him? Why?

[...]

Lorna: Because he needs me and you don't ---

Joe: That's not true!

Lorna: Because he's a desperate guy who always start out with two strikes against him. Because he's a kid at forty-two and you're a man at twenty-two.

Joe: You're sorry for him?

Lorna: What's wrong with that?

Joe: But what do you get?

Lorna: I told you before I don't care.

Moody: (after a brooding pause): I'll tell you something, Lorna. I'm not overjoyed the way Joe looks at you.

Lorna: How's he look?

Moody: As if he saw the whole island of Manhattan in your face, and I don't like it.

Lorna: You thought of that too late.

Tokio: [...] Why don't you forget Lorna?

Joe (as if not understanding): What?

Tokio: I'll say it again ... why not forget her? (No answer comes.) Joe, you're loaded with love. Find something to give it to. Your heart ain't in fighting ... your hate is. But a man with hate and nothing else ... he's half a man ... and half a man ... is no man. Find something to love, or someone. [...]

Joe: But my hands are ruined. I'll never play again! What's left, Lorna? Half a man, nothing, useless ...

Lorna: No, we're left! Two together! We have each other! Somewhere there must be happy boys and girls who can teach us the way of life! We'll find some city where poverty's no shame -- where music is no crime! -- where there's no war in the streets -- where a man is glad to be himself, to live and make his woman herself!

Eddie (to Frank): You got a good build -- you could be a fighter.

Frank: I fight ...

Eddie: Yeah? For what?

Frank: A lotta things I believe in ... (Eddie looks at Frank and appreciates his quality.)

Eddie: Whatta you get for it?

Roxy (laughing): Can't you see? A busted head?

Frank: I'm not fooled by a lotta things Joe's fooled by. I don't get autos and custom-made suits. But I get what Joe don't.

Eddie: What don't he get? (Mr. Bonaparte comes in and listens intently.)

Frank (modestly): The pleasure of acting as you think! The satisfaction of staying where you belong, being what you are ... at harmony with millions of others!