Hans Beckert: I can't help what I do! I can't help it, I can't...
Criminal: The old story! We never can help it in court!
Hans Beckert: What do you know about it? Who are you anyway? Who are you? Criminals? Are you proud of yourselves? Proud of breaking safes or cheating at cards? Things you could just as well keep your fingers off. You wouldn't need to do all that if you'd learn a proper trade or if you'd work. If you weren't a bunch of lazy bastards. But I... I can't help myself! I have no control over this, this evil thing inside of me, the fire, the voices, the torment!
Schraenker: Do you mean to say that you have to murder?
Hans Beckert: It's there all the time, driving me out to wander the streets, following me, silently, but I can feel it there. It's me, pursuing myself! I want to escape, to escape from myself! But it's impossible. I can't escape, I have to obey it. I have to run, run... endless streets. I want to escape, to get away! And I'm pursued by ghosts. Ghosts of mothers and of those children... they never leave me. They are always there... always, always, always!, except when I do it, when I... Then I can't remember anything. And afterwards I see those posters and read what I've done, and read, and read... did I do that? But I can't remember anything about it! But who will believe me? Who knows what it's like to be me? How I'm forced to act... how I must, must... don't want to, must! Don't want to, but must! And then a voice screams! I can't bear to hear it! I can't go on! I can't... I can't...
Pickpocket with 6 Watches: There are more police on the street tonight than whores
Judge: [last lines, about to pronounce sentence] In the name of the people...
Grieving Mother: This won't bring back our children. One needs to... keep closer watch... over our children. ALL OF YOU!
[to union member asleep next to him]
Beggar's Union Member: Stop snoring! You'll wake up the lice.
Elisabeth Winkler, Beckert's landlady: Could you speak louder please, I'm a bit hard of hearing.
Policeman: As if I couldn't tell.
Man in Pub: Hey, it's fatty Lohmann!
Everyone in Pub: [Chanting] Lohmann, Lohmann, Lohmann!
Franz, the burglar: [Franz is being tricked into thinking he killed the night watchman, and is going to jail for it] Please, Herr Kommissar! I'll tell you everything; even who we were looking for in that damned building.
Inspector Groeber: Really. Who?
Franz, the burglar: The child murderer, Herr Kommissar!
Woman in Crowd: Shoot him like a mad dog!
Girl in Circle at the Beginning: [First lines] Just you wait, it won't be long, The man in black will soon be here, With his cleaver's blade so true, He'll make mincemeat out of you!
Graphologist: The aforementioned diamond-shaped and swelling swoops, clearly seen in the word 'soon,' third line from the bottom... attest to the strongly pathological sexuality of the sex offender. Period.
Prostitute: Let me go, you dirty bastard! Let me go, you son of a bitch! Goddamn bastard! Put me down! Let me go!
Bartender: You're ruining my business, Sarge. These raids every night. No one can get a moment's peace! They're human beings, too.
Police Sargeant: You think we stay up all night just for the hell of it?
Bartender: No. But you're drivin' away my clientele and you won't find the guy you're lookin' for here anyway. If you know how steamed they are at the guy who's causing these raids. Especially the girls. Sure, they solicit. Business is business. But believe me, in every one of them beats a mother's heart! I know a lot of toughs who get all teary eyed just seein' the little ones at play. If they ever get their hands on that monster, they'll make toothpicks out of him!
Pickpocket with 6 Watches: The cops are crawling the streets like ants again.
Pickpocket with Suitcase: Green coats wherever you spit.
Pickpocket with 6 Watches: They're on your back even if you're with a broad. They've gone nuts - got this murderer on the brain. My old lady has a little six year old girl and every night I have to check under the bed to see if the murderer's hiding there. You can't do business anymore for tripping over cops everywhere. There's no privacy anymore. I'm fed up with it.
Pickpocket with Cards: What else is new?
Schraenker: An outsider is ruining our business and our reputation. Measures taken by the police and the daily raids to catch this child murderer are hampering our activities to an almost unbearable degree. We can no longer tolerate the fact that we're not safe now in any hotel, bar, cafe or even private home from the clutches of the police.
Criminal Syndicate Member: Very true.
Schraenker: This state of affairs must end. Things must return to normal or we'll go under. Our coffers will soon be depleted. If we can't get funds to support the wives of these members who currently enjoy room and board at state expense, I don't know where we'll find the money to carry out our plans. Our reputation is suffering as well. The police seek the murderer in our fold. Gentlemen, when I run head on into an officer from the squad, he knows the potential risks, and so do I. If either dies in the line of duty, fine. Occupational hazard. But we must draw a firm line between ourselves and this man they're looking for! We conduct our business in order to survive, but this monster has no right to survive! No, in my condition, I can't eat anything like that. Without money or compassion! Gentlemen, our members must be able to go about their business again without frantic cops in their way at every turn.