Drew to an inside straight and made it, by God.
PABLO:
Maldita sea to suerte!
STANLEY:
Put it in English, greaseball!
PABLO:
I am cursing your rutting luck.
STANLEY [prodigiously elated]:
You know what luck is? Luck is believing you're lucky. Take at Salerno. I believed I was lucky. I figured that 4 out of 5 would not come through but I would... and I did. I put that down as a rule. To hold front position in this rat-race you've got to believe you are lucky.
MITCH:
You... you... you... Brag... brag... bull... bull.
[Stella goes into the bedroom and starts folding a dress.]
STANLEY:
What's the matter with him?
EUNICE [walking past the table]:
I always did say that men are callous things with no feelings, but this does beat anything. Making pigs of yourselves.
[She comes through the portieres into the bedroom.]
STANLEY:
What's the matter with her?
STELLA:
How is my baby?
EUNICE:
Sleeping like a little angel. Brought you some grapes.