Tomas: You can sleep. Sleep in my arms. Like a baby bird. Like a broom among brooms... in a broom closet. Like a tiny parrot. Like a whistle. Like a little song. A song sung by a forest... within a forest... a thousand years ago.
Chick Gandil: You go back to Boston and turn seventy grand at the drop of a hat? I find that hard to believe.
Sport Sullivan: You say you can find seven men on the best club that ever took the field willin' to throw the World Series? I find that hard to believe.
Chick Gandil: You never played for Charlie Comiskey.