Captain Bligh: While our mission remains unfulfilled I'm not in any port, Mr Fryer, I'm command where you may find one day it's always lonely. You see, command allows no intimacies. You can hardly expect unquestioning obedience from last night's partner in a debauch.
Jan Compton: And what else has happened to it?
Kurt: What do you mean, what else? Well, it's... It's mutated some, of course. It's changed considerably.
Jacques Paganel: Tous les climats sont pareils pour l'amour. Uh, I was just thinking to myself: no matter where you are in the world, it is always different, but it is always the same. In English you would say: All climates are the same for love.
Howie Zimmerman: Now listen, Joie, I want you to take it nice and easy in there. It's not like we're trying to win the Olympics from the Russians every time.
Bannister: Do you know what I'm going to do after the war? I'm going to get married and have six kids. Then I'm going to line them up and tell them what Burma was like. And if they don't cry, I'll beat the hell out of them.
Ann Baldwin: I know I should be grateful we're still alive, but... I love you, Harry, but not more than a future without hope. I've got to have hope to go on. I've got to know there are other people like us, like our children. People who are better than just animals.
Sanjûrô Tsubaki: Stupid friends are dangerous.
Bob Munson: Mr. President, with the chair's permission, I shall be very brief.
The Vice President: The chair gladly gives any senator permission to be brief.
Bill Masen: Feel guilty, hmmm?
Christine Durrant: Maybe.
Bill Masen: You know why?
Christine Durrant: Why?
Bill Masen: Because you survived. Bettina, Coker and all the rest dead. And you're alive, and you wonder why.
Christine Durrant: That's exactly right.
Bill Masen: Yeah, I know the feeling. During the war, you get a ship shot out from underneath you. All your friends gone, and only a handful left. And you ask yourself "Why me? Why not someone better?"
Prof. Humbert Humbert: What drives me insane is the twofold nature of this nymphet, of every nymphet perhaps, this mixture in my Lolita of tender, dreamy childishness and a kind of eerie vulgarity. I know it is madness to keep this journal, but it gives me a strange thrill to do so. And only a loving wife could decipher my microscopic script.
Krystyna: So, you do know how to swim.
Papa Stavros: Hey, Ross, what do I get?
Ross Carpenter: You've got Mama.
Robert Miller: Watch out for snakes.