Rabbi: Mme. Fénelon your music is the soul of Paris.
Alma: And we must try to please them, Fania...
Fania: I'd prefer to think I'm saving my life rather than trying to please the S.S.
Alma: Do you think you can do one without the other?
Alma: I can not help but strive for the pursuit of perfection, I was trained that way and I can not change now.
Fania: I'm hardly in a position to criticize you, and I'm also trying to please.
Alma: Exactly. But we are artists. They can't take that. There is nothing to be ashamed of.
Shmuel: Don't do that.
Fania: What?!
Shmuel: Turn away. You have to look and see everything! So I can tell them when it's over.
Fania: Who?
Shmuel: ...
Fania: But I am not believe. Why did you pick me?
Shmuel: I
always know who to pick... Live!
Commandant Kramer: I must tell you, Fénelon, that I originally objected...
Fania: Excuse me, Herr Commandant. I must tell you, my name is really not Fénelon. My mother's name was Fénelon, my father's name was Goldstein. I'm Fania Goldstein.
Alma: So, why do they resent me? You are professional. You knows that strict discipline is required. A conductor must be respected.
Fania: I think she can be loved too...
Alma: You can not love what you do not respect!
Alma: It is perfectly traditional. In Austria, in Germany, when a musician is repeatedly wrong—
Fania: To slap?
Alma: Yes, of course! Furtwängler did it so frequently that his orchestras idolized him.
Alma: ... Then they arrested me as a Jew. It still astonishes me...
Fania: Because you are so so German?
Alma: Yes, I am. I am.
Alma: In this place, Fania, you will have to be
an artist, and
only artist! You will have to concentrate on one thing only... And that is to create
all the beauty you are capable of creating.
Shmuel: Fania, they are gassing 12,000 each day now. 12,000 angels... fly up every day!
Fania: Why do you keep telling me these things? What do you want from me?
Shmuel: Look with your eyes, the air is full of angels!
Fania: I have no answers anymore, Paulette. I'm living from minute to minute. My heart beats, so I'm alive. But I'm filling up with dust.
Sonya: I don't know what's gonna happen to us, Fania, before the end. I only want one Jewish woman to understand... When I first came here, I was sure that the Pope and the Christian leaders who didn't know, when they found out they would send planes to bomb the fires here and the tracks that bring them in every day. But the trains kept coming and the fires continue burning. Do you understand it? Do you understand?
Fania: May be there is something more important to bomb. What are we here anyway, a lot of women who can not even menstruate...
Sonya: Oh, Fania, forgive me, please!
Fania: You? Why? What did you do to me? Were you in the resistance? Did you try to fight against this? Why do you have to feel guilty?
Fania: It's all a joke. Don't you see? It's meaningless. I'm afraid nothing you could do would have changed that.
Fania: I almost feel pity for person like you more than for us. And you, you will survive. All everyone around you will be in sins, from the one end to the other. And who you will able to talk ever again?
Elzvieta: I'm not on their side. I'm only keeping myself for Jerusalem.
Fania: Good...
Elzvieta: What do you mean by that, Fania?
Fania: I mean, that is good. If you can keep yourself so apart from all this, so clean.
Elzvieta: But we are not responsible for this!
Fania: No, of course not. Nothing here is our fault... All I mean is this, we maybe innocent, but we'e
changed. I mean we know a little something about the human race, that we didn't know about before. And it's not good news.
Elzvieta: How can you still call them humans?!
Fania: Then what are they?
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