The Young Man: (Biting his lip) Literature—literature! How much it has meant to me!
Julie: Well, as Gaby Deslys said to Mr. Bergson, with my looks and your brains there's nothing we couldn't do.
The Young Man: (Laughing) You certainly are hard to keep up with. One day you're awfully pleasant and the next you're in a mood. If I didn't understand your temperament so well
Julie: (Impatiently) Oh, you're one of these amateur character-readers, are you? Size people up in five minutes and then look wise whenever they're mentioned. I hate that sort of thing.
The Young Man: I don't boast of sizing you up. You're most mysterious, I'll admit.
Julie: There's only two mysterious people in history.
The Young Man: Who are they?
Julie: The Man with the Iron Mask and the fella who says "ug uh-glug uh-glug uh-glug" when the line is busy.
The Young Man: You are mysterious, I love you. You're beautiful, intelligent, and virtuous, and that's the rarest known combination.
Julie: You're a historian. Tell me if there are any bath-tubs in history. I think they've been frightfully neglected.
The Young Man: Bath-tubs! Let's see. Well, Agamemnon was stabbed in his bath-tub. And Charlotte Corday stabbed Marat in his bath-tub.
Julie: (Sighing) Way back there! Nothing new besides the sun, is there? Why only yesterday I picked up a musical-comedy score that mast have been at least twenty years old; and there on the cover it said "The Shimmies of Normandy," but shimmie was spelt the old way, with a "C."
