Ricky: [to James Lingk]: I'm going to tell you something. Your life is your own. You have a contract with your wife? You have certain things you do jointly? Bond there. And there are other things, and those things are yours. And you needn't feel ashamed, you needn't feel that you're being untrue. Or that she would abandon you if she knew. This is your life. ... Ricky: All train compartments smell vaguely of shit. It gets so you don't mind it. That's the worse thing that I can confess. You know how long it took me to get there? A long time. When you die, you're gonna regret the things you don't do. You think you're queer? I'm gonna tell you somethin': we're all queer. You think you're a thief? So what? You get befuddled by a middle-class morality? Get shut of it. Shut it out. You cheat on your wife? You did it, live with it. Fuck little girls? So be it. There's an absolute morality? Maybe. And then what? If you think there is, go ahead, be that thing. Bad people go to hell? I don't think so. You think that? Act that way. A hell exists on Earth? Yes. I won't live in it. That's me. Did you ever take a dump - made you feel like you'd just slept for twelve hours? James Lingk: That I - Ricky: Yes? [James Lingk laughs.] James Lingk: I don't know. Roma: Or piss? Great meals fade in reflection. Everything else gains. You know why? 'Cause it's only food. This shit we put on us keeps us going. It's only food. The great fucks you may have had, what do you remember about 'em? James Lingk: What do I remember? Ricky: Yeah. I don't know. I'm sayin' what it is. It's-It's probably not the orgasm. Some broad's forearm on your neck, something her eyes did, there was this sound she made. Or it's me in the uh-I'm tellin' you, I'm in bed, the next day, she brought me café au lait, gives me a cigarette. My balls feel like concrete. Hey. [James Lingk laughs.] What I'm saying what is our life? Our life is lookin' forward, or it's lookin' back. That's it. That's our life. Where's the moment? And what is it we're so afraid of? James Lingk: Loss. Ricky: What else? The bank closes. You get sick. My wife died on a plane. The stock market collapsed. What if these things happen? None of 'em. We worry anyway. Why? ... Ricky: Stocks, bonds, objects of art, real estate. What are they? An opportunity. To what? To make money? Perhaps. To lose money? Perhaps. To 'indulge' and to 'learn' about ourselves? Perhaps. So fucking what? What isn't? They're an opportunity. That's all they are. They're an event. A guy comes to you, you make a call, you send in a card. 'I have these properties I would like for you to see.' What does it mean? What do you want it to mean. Do you see what I'm saying? Things happen to you. [pause] Glad I met you. I'm glad I met you, James. I want to show you something. It may mean something to you, it may not. I don't know. I don't know anymore. [He takes out a small brochure and puts it on the table] What is that? Florida. Glengarry Highlands. Florida. Bullshit. And maybe that's true, and that's what I said. But look at this. [He opens up the brochure, with the words: 'Make Your Dreams Come True'].