Simon Helberg

Florence F. Jenkins: "You know I played for the president when I was eight years-old."
Cosme McMoon: "Really?"
Florence F. Jenkins: "Yes, little Miss Foster they called me. I had very high hopes of becoming a concert pianist, but then when the nerves were damaged in my left hand that was not to be."

St Clair Bayfield: "Carlo Edwards didn't mention any flatness and he is the leading vocal coach in the city."
Cosmé McMoon: "He's supposed to be, but we can't be talking about the same singer. I mean her vocal cords they don't phonate freely, her phrasing is haphazard, as for her sub-block and pressure, it defies medical science."
St Clair Bayfield: "Is her instrument quite what it was, perhaps not, but as Beethoven said, 'A few wrong notes may be forgive, but singing without feeling cannot'."
Cosmé McMoon: "Mr. Bayfield..."

Cosme McMoon: "I think Madam Florence might need more lessons."
St Clair Bayfield: "Please, my wife is ill. Singing was her dream and I'm going to give it to her."

St Clair Bayfield: "Is not ours a happy world, Cosmé? Do we not have fun?"
Cosme McMoon: "Please, Mr. Bayfield."
St Clair Bayfield: "You see we have to help her, because without loyalty there's nothing."
Cosme McMoon: "We'll be murdered out there!"
St Clair Bayfield: "And you think I'm not aware of that? For twenty-five years I've kept the mockers and scoffers at bay. I'm very well aware of what they might do, but Florence has been my life, I love her, and I think you love her too. Hmm? Singing at Carnegie Hall is her dream and I'm going to give it to her. The only question now is whether you will stand by your patron and friend in her hour of need, or whether you will focus on your ambition? ... Please, Cosmé. Will you play for your friend?"