Holly: 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.
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!
Holly (said to Doc.): Please, Doc., please understand. I love you, but I’m just not Lula Mae anymore.
Holly (said to Paul, after Doc. had left): You know, the terrible thing, Fred, darling? I am still Lula Mae.
Paul: So what? So plenty! I love you. You belong to me.
Holly: No. People don’t belong to people.
Paul: Of course they do.
Holly: I’m not going to let anyone put me in a cage.
Paul: I don’t want to put you in a cage. I want to love you.
Holly: It’s the same thing.
Paul: No it’s not. Holly…
Holly: I’m not Holly. I’m not Lula Mae, either. I don’t know who I am! I’m like cat here, a couple of no-name slobs. We belong to nobody and nobody belongs to us. We don’t even belong to each other.
Paul: 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.
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.