I’d like to give you a going away present. You may not like it, but I don’t care. It’s just this: you’re never gonna forget me. You’re gonna walk down the street of wherever you happen to be, you’re gonna see me, even when you know I’m not there. And nobody is ever gonna be as right for you as I was. For twelve days in Paris in the autumn… ‘cause that was your gift to me.
Paris Blues (1961) dir. Martin Ritt