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Cesarea: “My dear, I’m not dead yet, I don’t need flowers!”

Cesarea: “Apparently my reward for a misspent life is not to be a peaceful death in bed!”

Grazia: “Let’s go fast enough to reach the illimitable.”
Rhoda: “Whatever that is!”

Rhoda: “What are we going to do with these lovely flowers?”
Corrado: “Throw ’em at people we don’t like.”

Cesarea: “Mad…absolutely mad, all of them!”

Corrado: “We almost had an accident.”
Rhoda: “Almost? We flirted with a coroner’s inquest and passed on!”

Grazia: “I like going fast...It feels like wings.”

Stephanie: “Love is music, and love is poetry.”

Death: “I am…how shall I describe it?—a sort of vagabond of space. I am the point of contact between eternity and time. …You see, I am—or I was, until I crossed your threshold…Death.”

Death: “What could terror mean to me, who have nothing to fear?”

Death: “There is something here to be known and felt—something desirable that makes men fear me and cling to their life. I must know what it is.”

Death: “My holiday is just caprice; a mad joke I play with life. But what a monstrous—what a sublime joke!”

Cesarea: “Will somebody quit firing cannon under my windows? I was just on the point of getting to sleep!”

Sirki: “I wish that we might never meet when you are less beautiful, and I must be…less kind.”

Sirki: “I have never tasted wine…of your country.”

Sirki: “To this household. To life, and to all brave illusion.”

Sirki: “They wither on me. There are people like that, you know?—who wither the flowers they wear.”

Cesarea: “You’re not a physician, by any chance?”
Sirki: “I have something in common with them.”

Sirki: “I have known many four-bottle men. They were so cheerful…They were not even afraid of me.”

Rhoda: “What a divine sense of humor!”
Sirki: “I am glad somebody is beginning to realize that.”

Sirki: “I can assure you that if the ‘old man’ were always so neglectful, there would be serious overcrowding.”

Sirki: “Don’t worry, my friend. Your sacred privilege of blowing each other to bits is quite safe.”

Sirki: “Is that what one does with a day? Spend it?”
Cesarea: “In my time, we merely filled in the days. We spent the nights.”

Sirki: “Out here is the night, crowded with beauty—and you herd inside in smoky rooms, feverish over little games. Why?”

Sirki: “I came here looking for a game to play—a game worth playing.”

Rhoda: “Whose mind do you want changed? I’m good at that.”

Rhoda: “Did you bring me out here to analyze me?”
Sirki: “Yes—or to analyze myself, perhaps.”

Sirki: “You are so fortunate here. I think I used to despise you all with your little whims and desires, all leading up to nothing. Now there is nothing I want so much as to share them…and I cannot.”

Sirki: “Suppose you had been set down for a few hours or a few days among the inhabitants of the Moon, and it was all the life you could have forever…and you knew no one there, and no one dared to know you.”

Sirki: “I am a fear, a shadow—a wandering thing.”

Sirki: “You can give me a soul only if you know me and can still love me.”

Sirki: “Would you threaten the stars because you dislike your destiny?”

Sirki: “I have been caught in this web of flesh, Duke Lambert—caught and tortured!”

Sirki: “I myself have touched many shoulders…but for other reasons.”

Sirki: “A moment ago, I knew only that men were dust, and their end was dust. And now, suddenly, I know for the first time that men bear a dream within them—a dream that lifts them above their dust and their little days. And you have brought this to me.”

Sirki: “Grazia, don’t be afraid of me. I am Sirki who loves you more than any man could love you. I am Sirki who needs your warmth and your beauty more than any man could need you. … I am a great power, and I am humbled before you.”

Sirki: “Give me one hour of you. Let me hold you once and feel your life. You are the meaning of beauty that I must know. Grazia, let me hold you; let me feel that last ecstasy, and know that I have lived.”

Sirki: “I thought we should part as friends, with kindly remembrances…but now my shadow has come between us.”

Sirki: “I tell you, to go with me now, in love, would be triumph—not death as it is known to you.”

Corrado: “You have ten minutes more of life. After that, what can you give her?”
Sirki: “Sleep, perhaps, and the release of dreams. And beyond that—there are no words by which to tell you.”

Sirki: “I bound myself to life, and with it, to the little rules by which it is lived…And now, I must bow to it. What a monstrous comedy!”

Grazia: “I’ve found my love. There ought to be lights and music!”

Death: “Remember that there is only a moment of shadow between your life and mine. When I call, come bravely through that shadow, and you will find me only…your familiar friend.”