Russell adapts novels and novellas into plays and screenplays.
QUASIMODO: I tried to take you. And the next day you brought me water and pity. You might have forgotten but I remember.
Quasimodo goes to leave - then turns around.
These towers are high - if a man were to fall from one he would be dead before he hit the ground. When you would like me to fall from the tower you won't even have to say a word. A glance will be enough.
HONOR: You cannot cheat the dark gods, Mr Lynch-Gibbon. Perhaps it is no business of mine if you choose to be powerless and to abandon your wife. But everything in this life has to be paid for, and love too has to be paid for. Why does my brother, who is rich, always charge high fees even to poor patients? Because without payment they would be wretched. They would be captives. I believe you love my brother. But you do him no good by letting him off. He wants, he needs, your harshness, your criticism, even your violence. By gentleness you only spare yourself and prolong this enchantment of untruth which they have woven about themselves and about you too. Sooner or later you will have to become a centaur and kick your way out.
The sound of distant gunfire and carnage.
Inside different rooms, pairs and pairs, and a threesome or two, are entwined and fucking.
Some are spurred on by the danger and chaos beyond their walls.
Alone, Butterball listens attentively to the shots.
She flinches to the firing.
Laevsky: Challenge? Challenge? Certainly! I hate you! I hate you!
Von Koren: I'm terribly pleased. Tomorrow morning. Early. Near Kerbalays. The rest of the details I will leave to your taste: now get out.
Laevsky: (Quieter.) I hate you. I've hated you for a very long time. A duel. That's right.