A café. Nana wants to leave Paul.
Paul: Do you really like this guy?
Nana: I don’t know. I wonder what I’m thinking about?
Paul: Does he have more money than me?
Nana: What do you care?
Paul: What’s the matter?
Nana: Nothing. I wanted to be very precise. I didn’t know the best way to say it. Or, rather, I did know, but I don’t any more. Just when I should know, too. Does it never happen to you?
Paul: Don’t you ever talk about anything but yourself?
Nana: You’re horrible.
Paul: I’m not horrible, Nana, I’m sad.
Nana: I’m not sad, Paul. I’m horrible.
Paul: Don’t just parrot lines. This isn’t a stage.
Nana: You never do as I ask. You always want me to do what you want. Anyway, I’m fed up. I want to die. I mean it.
Paul: Parrot talk.
— Godard
Notes from a Room 