Roy Cronin

Wish I could have seen the ballet. I'm sure it would have been a pleasant memory in the trenches.

— I knew I wouldn't sleep so I've been walking in the garden, confiding my good luck to the stars.
— Were they pleased?
— No, they seemed indifferent. They went on glittering, the little exhibitionists!

— I should think a dancer's muscles would be like a strongman.
— Oh, not quite. That's a bit dreadful. We try to combine slenderness with strength.

Either you're excited about life or you're not. You know, I've never been able to wait for the future.

— It's been so quick. Are you quite, quite sure?
— Myra, I was never so sure of anything in my life. In the moment you left me after the air raid, I knew I must find you again. I've found you and I'll never let you go. Does that answer you?

— The ballet was beautiful.
— Madame didn't think so.
— Well, experts never know — it takes outsiders to know, and I tell you, it was beautiful.
— That certainly proves you're an outsider.

— Good night, darling.
— Goodbye, darling.
— Why goodbye when it's only till morning?
— Because, every parting from you is — is like a little eternity.

— This hateful war.
— Yes, I suppose it is. And yet there's — I don't know — a certain amount of excitement about it too. Round the corner of every second, the fascination of the unknown. We're both facing it, this instance.
— No, we face the unknown in peacetime too.
— You're rather matter-of-fact, aren't you?
— Yes. You're rather romantic, aren't you?