Especially tonight.

Why did you have to come to casablanca?

There are other places.

I wouldn't have come

If I'd known that you were here.

Believe me. It's true. I didn't know.

Your voice hasn't changed. I can still hear it.

"richard, dear, I'll go with you anyplace."

Please, don't. Don't, rick!

I can understand how you're feeling.

You understand how I feel.

How long was it we had, honey?

I didn't count the days.

Well, I did. Every one of them.

Mostly I remember the last one,

The wow finish,

A guy standing on a station platform in the rain

With a comical look on his face

Because his insides had been kicked out.

Can I tell you a story, rick?

Has it got a wow finish?

I don't know the finish yet.

Go on, tell it.

Maybe one'll come to you as you go along.

It's about a girl

Who had just come to paris

From her home in oslo.

At the house of some friends, she met a man

About whom she had heard her whole life,

A very great and courageous man.

He opened up for her a whole beautiful world

Full of knowledge and thoughts and ideals.

Everything she knew or ever became

Was because of him.

She looked up to him and worshipped him

With a feeling she supposed was love.

Yes. It's very pretty. I heard a story once.

I've heard a lot of stories in my time.

They went along with the sound of a tinny piano

Playing in the parlor downstairs.

"mister, I met a man once when I was a kid,"

It always begins.

Oh, I guess neither one of our stories is very funny.

Tell me, who was it you left me for?

Was it laszlo, or were there others in between--

Aren't you the kind that tell?