Neil Cotton:
Why are you all dressed in green?
Cassandra:
There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.
Cassandra:
This is a crisis Simon, not a treat.
Cassandra:
I don't want to go through life like my mother, afraid that I'm not really loved, even if it meant I could go through life with you.
Cassandra:
Still, better all that hurt than to have known no pain; learnt nothing.
Cassandra:
I look a lot prettier when I'm not standing next to Rose.
Simon:
You always were wise beyond your years.
Cassandra:
No I wasn't. I used to be consciously naive.
Rose:
Well, I shall not forthcome again.
Thomas:
It's good you're feeling so angry - harness the rage!
Cassandra:
But dreams are like a drug: the magic doesn't last and then the pain is worse than knives.
Cassandra:
I said I would never fall in love; I said love was a murderous thing; And it is, and I'm floating on air.
Cassandra:
No towel in the world is worth marrying a bearded man you hate.
Cassandra:
Father. 'Jacob Wrestling' was a wonderful, groundbreaking book. There was never going to be a sequel overnight!
James Mortmain:
Meaning?
Cassandra:
Meaning, it will come!
James Mortmain:
How old are you?
Cassandra:
Seventeen.
James Mortmain:
And you still believe in fairy tales.
Cassandra:
I have put my own father back in prison.
Cassandra:
Is that all you think you're worth?
Topaz Mortmain:
It's what I have to make my mark.
Cassandra:
You've made your mark with us! Thomas. And Rose. And me.
Topaz Mortmain:
But I'm not your mother.
Thomas:
Don't worry, Topaz. Rose is dabbling in the occult.
Topaz Mortmain:
Oh. Well, full marks for enterprise.
Thomas:
Don't worry. Rose is dabbling in the occult.
Topaz Mortmain:
Oh. Well, full marks for enterprise.
[
first lines]
Cassandra:
I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.
Cassandra:
Can you smell bluebells?
Rose:
I can smell heaven.
Cassandra:
[
about Simon] You don't love him, do you?
Rose:
No. I don't think I do. Shame really.
Cassandra:
Well... do you want me to tell him?
Rose:
Tell him what? I'm still going to marry him.
Cassandra:
That's a wicked, wicked thing to do!
Rose:
You can't leave now! What am I going to tell people?
Cassandra:
You're already living a lie, Rose. Tell them what the bloody hell you like. And then go home and count your peach coloured towels.
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