Gertrude Bell: I operate for no-one.
Sir Mark Sykes: What is it then that attracts you to the Bedouin out there?
Gertrude Bell: Something that you and your world you can not ever understand. It's their freedom. It's their dignity. It's their poetry of life.
Gertrude Bell: Paradise has no time, age or sanctuary. Awaits us.
Gertrude Bell: Nightingale with drops in heart bleed. A fed red rose. Then came the wind. And catching her, jealous branches. I have coiled heart with a hundred thorns.
Becca: Why didn't He just make one, if He needed another Angel? He is God, after all.
Becca: Somewhere out there I'm having a good time.
Becca: And so this is just the sad version of us.
Walter Kresby: First of all we are in the country now, so no more black.
Joanna Eberhart: No more black? Are you insane?
Walter Kresby: You heard me. Only high-powered, neurotic, castrating, Manhattan career bitches wear black. Is that what you want to be?
Joanna Eberhart: Ever since I was a little girl.
Bobbie Markowitz: Add it up. All the women around here are perfect sex-kitten bimbos. All the men are drooling nerds. Doesn't that seem strange?
Joanna Eberhart: Not to me.
Bobbie Markowitz: Why not?
Joanna Eberhart: I work in television.
Walter Kresby: She's not a robot. She never was. I couldn't do it.
Mike Wellington: Why not?
Walter Kresby: Because she's not a science project. Because I didn't marry something from RadioShack.
Mike Wellington: That's a shame.
Joanna Eberhart: No. That's a man.
Evelyn Stoker: India, who are you? You were supposed to love me, weren't you?
Charles Stoker: She always used to say: "There's nothing a man could master that a woman couldn't make."
India Stoker: What do you mean?
Evelyn Stoker: That sounds better in French.
Sarah Miller: Open it so we can all die, 'cause I don't give a fuck anymore.
