Blossom: Why can’t we all be together once in awhile? Why can’t we be some sort of a family, like other people? Why can’t we? Why can’t we? Why can’t we?
Barrie: I didn’t know you felt this way about it. I suspect it’s all my fault.
Blossom: You’re alright, Dad. Why can’t you be like this all the time?
Barrie: It seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Somehow what we mean to be and what we are, are quite different.
Ilonka Tolnay: Do you own this place?
Headwaiter: No, I don’t.
Ilonka Tolnay: Well, when I buy, I like to buy from the owner, not the help.
Headwaiter: But, please, the owner here does not take orders at the table.
Ilonka Tolnay: Probably because he’s ashamed of his prices.
Corporal Harry Marten: Please, this is Vienna. Everything’s a little higher.
Ilonka Tolnay: Asparagus is asparagus, even in Vienna.
Michael Ward: What if she’s right – he didn’t do it, and they give him the chair?
Martin: Suppose they do? What difference does it make? There’s too many people in the world anyway.
Michael Ward: What’s the use of talking to you? You think everything’s a joke.
Martin: My son, it is. If it weren’t, life wouldn’t be worth living.
Maxim de Winter: The woman that was washed up at Edgecombe, the woman that is now buried in the family crypt, that was not Rebecca. That was the body of some unknown woman, unclaimed, belonging nowhere. I identified it, but I knew it wasn’t Rebecca. It was all a lie. I knew where Rebecca’s body was. Lying on that cabin floor on the bottom of the sea.
Mrs. de Winter: How did you know, Maxim ?
Maxim de Winter: Because I put it there. Will you look into my eyes and tell me that you love me now ? You see ? I was right. It’s too late.