Holly: I don’t want to own anything until I find a place where I 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 Golightly: That’s right. I’m just CRAZY about Tiffany’s!
Holly: I’m like cat here, a no-name slob. 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. 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.