- Dr. Alex Brulov: Women make the best psychoanalysts until they fall in love. After that they make the best patients.
- Dr. Alex Brulov: My dear girl, you can not keep bumping your head against reality and saying it is not there. The evidence was definite. We can't remove it by wishing or crying.
- John Ballantyne: I don't believe in dreams. That Freud stuff's a lot of hooey.
- Dr. Alex Brulov: Oh, you are a fine one to talk! You've got amnesia and you've got a guilt complex and you don't know if you are coming or going from some place, but Freud is hooey! *This* you know! Hmph! A wiseguy.
- Constance Petersen: I think the greatest harm done the human race has been done by the poets.
- Anthony Edwardes: Oh, poets are dull boys, most of them, but not especially fiendish.
- Constance Petersen: They keep filling people's heads with delusions about love... writing about it as if it were a symphony orchestra or a flight of angels.
- Anthony Edwardes: Which is isn't, eh?
- Constance Petersen: Of course not. People fall in love, as they put it, because they respond to a certain hair coloring or vocal tones or mannerisms that remind them of their parents.
- Anthony Edwardes: Or... or... sometimes for no reason at all.
- Constance Petersen: That's not the point. The point is that people read about love as one thing and experience it as another. Well, they expect kisses to be like lyrical poems and embraces to be like Shakespearean dramas.
- Anthony Edwardes: And when they find out differently, then they get sick and have to be analyzed, eh?
- Constance Petersen: Yes, very often.
- Anthony Edwardes: Professor, you're suffering from "mogo on the gogo."
- Constance Petersen: I beg your pardon!
- [last lines]
- Dr. Alex Brulov: And remember what I say: any husband of Constance is a husband of mine, so to speak.
- John Ballantyne: [laughing] Alright! Goodbye. Good luck!
- Dr. Alex Brulov: Goodbye!
- John Ballantyne: Now, this honeymoon is complicated enough without your dragging medical ethics into it.
- Constance Petersen: All analysts have to be psychoanalyzed by other analysts before they start practicing.
- John Ballantyne: Ahhh, that's to make sure that they're not too crazy.
- Dr. Alex Brulov: We are speaking of a schizophrenic and not a Valentine.
- Constance Petersen: We are speaking of a man.
- Dr. Alex Brulov: Oh, so you are married? Well there is nothing so nice as a new marriage. No psychosis yet. No aggressions, no guilt complexes. I congratulate you and wish you have babies and not phobias.
- Dr. Alex Brulov: And how do you know what his real character is?
- Constance Petersen: I know. I know.
- Dr. Alex Brulov: She knows. This is the way science goes backward. Who told you what he is? Freud? Or a crystal ball?
- Constance Petersen: I couldn't feel this way towards a man who was bad.
- Dr. Alex Brulov: You grant me I know more than you, but on the other hand, you know more than me. Women's talk. Bah!
- Dr. Fleurot: I've watched your work for six months, it's *brilliant*, but lifeless. There's no intuition in it. You approach all your problems with an icepack on your head.
- Constance Petersen: Are you making love to me?
- Dr. Fleurot: I will in a moment. I'm just clearing the ground first.
- Constance Petersen: I'm here as your doctor only. It has nothing to do with love.
- [John kisses Constance and they embrace each other tightly]
- Constance Petersen: Nothing at all. Nothing at all...
- John Ballantyne: Oh, stop it! Babbling like some phoney King Solomon. You're filled with half-witted double talk that doesn't make sense. If there's anything I hate, it's a smug woman!
- Constance Petersen: [smiling] Darling, we're just beginning.
- [after John has finally admitted that Dr. Edwardes fell off a cliff in a skiing accident and that he did not murder him]
- Constance Petersen: Well, thank goodness it's all cleared up.
- Det. Lt. Cooley: Well, not quite, Dr. Petersen. I'm afraid a bullet was found in the body.
- Dr. Fleurot: It's rather like embracing a textbook.
- Constance Petersen: But why do you do it, then?
- Dr. Fleurot: Because you're not a textbook. You're a sweet, pulsing, adorable woman underneath. I sense it every time I come near to you.
- Constance Petersen: You sense only your own desires and pulsations.
- Anthony Edwardes: I know why you came in.
- Dr. Constance Petersen: [entranced] ... Why?
- Anthony Edwardes: Because something has happened to us.
- Dr. Constance Petersen: But it doesn't happen like that - in a day.
- Anthony Edwardes: It happens in a moment sometimes... I felt it this afternoon... It's like lightning striking... It strikes rarely.
- Anthony Edwardes: [He walks towards her; they kiss]
- Constance Petersen: If you shoot now, it is cold, deliberate murder. You'll be tried as a sane murderer, convicted as a sane man, and killed in the electric chair for your crime.
- [first lines]
- Nurse: [offscreen] Miss Carmichael, please. Dr. Petersen is ready for you.
- Mary Carmichael: Psychoanalysis, it bores the pants off of me. Lying there on the couch, like some dreary nitwit, telling all. You don't really expect to get anywhere listening to me babble about my idiotic childhood. Really?
- Dr. Fleurot: Your lack of human and emotional experience is bad for you as a doctor - and fatal for you as a woman.
- Constance Petersen: I've heard that argument from a number of amorous psychiatrists.
- Dr. Fleurot: Gentlemen, notice her stocking. The lady's been climbing trees.
- Dr. Murchison: Or lolling in a briar patch.
- Dr. Fleurot: No, no. It's trees, there are two leaves in her hair.
- Dr. Fleurot: Looks as if we have Casanova himself at the head of Green Manors. Did you notice her blush everytime we mentioned his name?
- John Ballantyne: I have no memory It's like looking in a mirror and just seeing nothing but the mirror. And yet the image is there, I know it's there. I exist, I'm there. How could a man lose his memory, his name, everything he's ever known and still talk like this? As if he were quite sane.
- Dr. Fleurot: If you were anybody but Constance Petersen, the human glacier and the custodian of truth, I'd say.,,
- Constance Petersen: Yes, you'd say what?
- Dr. Fleurot: My dear, forgive me my scurrilously thoughts.
- Dr. Fleurot: The police will never find him alive. An amnesia case of that sort, with the police after it, is an obvious suicide. The fellow will put an end to his pain and nightmares and fantasies by blowing his brains out or dropping himself out of a window.
- Dr. Fleurot: I'm a sentimental ass. A woman like you could never become involved emotionally with any man - sane or insane.
- House Detective: Looking for somebody, huh? All right, don't be afraid of me. I've got you spotted as a lady in trouble - and from out of town. Schoolteacher, or librarian, which is it?
- Constance Petersen: Schoolteacher.
- House Detective: I thought so. They always look like they've just lost something.
- Constance Petersen: I'm going to do what I want to do. Take care of you and cure you and remain with you until that happens.
- House Detective: I'm a kind of psychologist. You know, you got to be in my line. Now, would you mind filling in a few of the blank spaces for me?
- Constance Petersen: Eh, oh no. It's just that we quarreled.
- House Detective: Oh, and then you got sorry and you came running after him? That's the usual psychology.
- House Detective: I'm glad to be of service I'm a married man, myself, and I know how it feels to have a wife come chasing after you to apologize.
- House Detective: Give me a description of him.
- Constance Petersen: He's very tall and attractive - dark hair, a rather rugged face, and brown eyes.
- John Ballantyne: When I hold you like this I feel entirely well. Will you love me just as much when I'm normal?
- Constance Petersen: Oh, I'll be insane about you.
- John Ballantyne: I am normal. At least there's nothing wrong with me that a nice, long kiss wouldn't cure.
- Constance Petersen: Oh, I've never treated a guilt complex that way before.
- John Ballantyne: I'm sorry. I'm a pig.
- Constance Petersen: No, I am. I keep forgetting you're a patient.
- John Ballantyne: Darling, I have a confession to make.
- Constance Petersen: I'm listening.
- John Ballantyne: As a doctor, you irritate me. I sit here, swooning with love, and then suddenly you ask me a question and I don't like you anymore. Do you have to sit there smiling at me like some smug, know-it-all schoolteacher?
- Constance Petersen: I can't help smiling. That's what happens in analysis. As the doctor begins to uncover the truth of a patient, said patient develops a fine hearty hatred of said doctor. Well, you're going to hate me a great deal before we are through.
- John Ballantyne: And you're going to like that?
- Constance Petersen: As a scientist, yes.
- John Ballantyne: And if I should happen to biff you one, you'll consider that a sort of diploma?
- Constance Petersen: Yes, but don't biff too hard.
- Constance Petersen: You were in Rome.
- John Ballantyne: I was never in Rome in my life.
- Constance Petersen: You were either there, or going there. You remembered something no doubt connected with burning your hand. Rome, think of Rome. Maybe Rome, ltaly. When did you go to Rome? What did you do in Rome? Think. Think. Rome
- John Ballantyne: I think you're quite mad - and you're much crazier than I. Do all this for a creature without a name. To run off with - a pair of initials.
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