Dr. Alex Brulov: Good night and sweet dreams... which we'll analyze at breakfast.
Dr. Alex Brulov: Women make the best psychoanalysts until they fall in love. After that they make the best patients.
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!
Dr. Alex Brulov: My dear girl, you can not keep bumping your head against reality and saying it is not there.
Dr. Alex Brulov: What is there for you to see? We both know that the mind of a woman in love is operating on the lowest level of the intellect!
Dr. Alex Brulov: I congratulate you and wish you have babies, not psychoses.
Dr. Murchison: The old must make way for the new, especially when the old is suspected of senility.
John Ballantine: For what it's worth, I can't remember ever having kissed another woman before.
John Ballantine: I'm haunted, but I can't see by what!
Dr. Alex Brulov: There's lots of happiness in working hard. Maybe the most.
Dr. Alex Brulov: Apparently the mind is never too sick to make jokes about psychoanalysis.
John Ballantine: Now, this honeymoon is complicated enough without your dragging medical ethics into it.
[first title card]
Title Card: The fault... is not in our stars, but in ourselves... - Shakespeare
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!
John Ballantine: If there's anything I hate, it's a smug woman.
Dr. Murchison: [with his revolver pointed at Constance] You're an excellent analyst, Dr. Peterson, but a rather stupid woman.
Dr. Alex Brulov: Oh, so you are married? There's nothing so nice as a new marriage. No psychosis yet. No aggressions, no guilt complexes. Congratulations!
Constance Petersen: I'll make you coffee with an egg in it.
Nurse: [offscreen] Miss Carmichael, please. Dr. Petersen is ready for you.
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]