Diana Cavendish: I want Jonathan t know you, there must be something I can do.
Robin Cavendish: Get me out of here.
Diana Cavendish: Bloggs told me the other day that all our friends were convinced I'd give up on you. Apparently they saw me as some kind of a pampered nitwit.
Robin Cavendish: Well, you are a pampered nitwit.
Diana Cavendish: Oh, was I? Well, it didn't stop you running after me, did it?
Robin Cavendish: Well, no. I've got nothing against nitwits, as long as they're pretty.
Robin Cavendish: This chair pushing business. Is is hard to do over long distances?
Diana Cavendish: Well, it's harder than a pram, I can tell you.
Robin Cavendish: Just think, all those affairs I could have had.
Diana Cavendish: And me.
Robin Cavendish: It's not too late for you.
Diana Cavendish: Oh, isn't it? What, and come back and find you've popped off while I was out?
Robin Cavendish: That would rather spoil the party, wouldn't it?
Janet Armstrong: What are the chances you're not coming back? Those kids, they don't have a father anymore! So you're gonna sit the boys down, and prepare them for the fact that you might never come home.
Deke Slayton: We've got this under control.
Janet Armstrong: You're a bunch of boys making models out of balsa wood! You don't have anything under control!
The Girl: And you, Behmen! All you needed was a child to save. Someone to ease your pitiful guilt. Did you truly think that saving one ragged waif would change anything? Come, Behmen. Your sins are legion. How many innocent have fallen beneath that very blade?
The Girl: We believe what we want to believe.
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