Bill: Running away from home?
Kate: I'm an orphan.
Bill: What happened to your folks?
Kate: They died. Went down with a boat. Sank. Forget the name of it. Big boat.
Kate: Yeah, that's it!
Bill: Then your parents died 63 years before you were born!
Kate: Which is why I hardly knew them.
Bill: Yeah, well that... that... that makes sense.
Shirl: Sometimes I think you don't realize what's going on, I think sometimes you're getting...
Bill: Senile? That's the operative word nowadays, isn't it, Shirl? You know, it's funny. When I was young, I was called a rugged individualist. When I was in my 50s I was considered eccentric. Here I am, doing and saying the same thing that I did then, and I'm labeled senile. I wonder what my billing is going to be ten years from now?
Bill: Memories don't belong in drawers.
Box Boy: How come I never heard of Max Wellington?
Bill: Maybe because he was great. You never really remember anyone who was great. It's a sad fact of life, Joe. The truly great not only go unremembered, they seldom get hired. It's the mediocre talent that gets all the work. Nobody expects anything from them, and they're never disappointed.
Box Boy: Well, I don't understand that.
Bill: Neither do I, but remember it.