- Bianca: Maybe I'm the first woman you've dealt with.
- Amerigo: Yes and no.
- Bianca: I don't mean girlfriends, you may have had some. But, when you came to town, have you ever been with women like me? Tell the truth. Maybe I'm the first luxury girl that you've known. But what luxury? It's a room like any other.
- Bianca: You see him? He's waiting for me. He too would like to redeem me. He'd set me up in a home and all. And I should put up with him alone. I prefer to be paid well where I am and that he waits the whole evening. He gives me what I want. What you'd earn in a month, I bet. Look at him. He sleeps. I'd rather endure one hundred like him than just one. One cancels out the other. If I were his kept woman, you know the scenes whenever I wanted an Amerigo. Go. Go away.
- Stefano: Listen, tell your brother to give you a hand to dump the manure. And to not sow it along the way or he'll pick it up with his tongue!
- Amerigo: There are days like this one, when you seem to die, like my uncle, and to relive, little by little.
- Bianca: When he comes back, welcome him. He won't touch me again! I want to see him end up - I want to see him end up at the bottom!
- Amerigo: A bit of love doesn't matter?
- Bianca: No! You know why we love each other? Because we're good together in bed. It's nothing to do with the heart. I don't know what it is, the heart. When I think of you, it's for desire. Desire, understand? You must like me for what I am. Because you have the same desire. Which comes and goes. It doesn't involve sentiment. Nothing.
- Amerigo: So, what should I do?
- Bianca: Oh, God, he didn't get it! Lie down beside me, as before. I seemed to touch the sky, so much I wanted you. There, together. Without paying, without being paid. Is there anything more honest? We're beasts. Not humans. We're beasts.
- Bianca: You wanted to make love. And then saying, "We'll go together through the world, we'll work, we'll love each other. Do you feel how much I love you? You make me feel filthier than I've ever been!
- Old Casamonti: One dies when it's time. When one stops, like the clocks, and when one is no longer good at working the soil, nor at beating people.
- Old Casamonti: Beware, rather, if I lose consciousness, that they don't bring priests to anoint my feet. And remember, brains - and fists!