Murray's monologue outside Lom Far's Oriental Paradise Rear Door from "A Thousand Clowns"

"Now, look, Sandy, to tell you the truth, it’s even better for me if he goes. I mean, he’s a middle-aged kid.

You know, when I signed with the network that time, he sat up all night figuring out the fringe benefits and the pension plans?

And he started to make lists this year. Lists of everything! Subway stops! Underwear! What he’s gonna do next week!  Somebody doesn’t watch out, he’ll start making lists of what he’s going to do next year and the next ten years!

Hey, suppose they put him in with a whole family of list makers! No-no – I didn’t spend six years with him so he can turn into a list maker! 

He’ll learn to know everything before it happens! He’ll learn how to plan. He’ll learn how to be one of the nice dead people. 

I want to be sure he'll know when he's chickening out on himself. 

I want him to get to know the special thing he is or else he won't notice it when it starts to go. 

I want him to stay awake and know who the phonies are; I want him to know how to holler and put up an argument; I want a little guts to show before I can let him go. 

I want to be sure he sees all the wild possibilities. 

I want him to know it's worth all the trouble just to give the world a little goosing once you get the chance.

And I want him to know the sneaky, subtle, important reason he was born a human being and not a chair.