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The Pianist
Thank God, not me. He wants us to survive. Well, that's what we have to believe.
Thank God, not me. He wants us to survive. Well, that's what we have to believe.
Music was his passion. Survival was his masterpiece.
We can just stand here and talk. I think we're allowed to do that, don't you?
It's too absurd.
Dance!
You musicians don't make good conspirators. You're too... too... musical!
Germans never use Jewish toilets. They're too clean for them.
My pleasure. It won't help you anyway.
"If you prick us, do we not bleed? It you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?"
It's a funny time to say this but I wish I knew you better.
Well, off they go to the melting pot.
They're exterminating us.
Hope you played the piano better than you carry bricks.
He's a Jew! A Jew! Stop the Jew! Don't let him out! Stop him!
It's the safest place to be. Right at the heart of the lion's den.
I'm cold.
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