Calloway: Next time we'll have a foolproof coffin.
Calloway: It had meningitis. They gave it some of Lime's penicillin. Terrible pity isn't it.
Holly Martins: I'd make comic faces... and stand on my head and grin at you between my legs... and tell all sorts of jokes. I wouldn't stand a chance, would I?
Crabbin: Hello, Mr. Martins! I've been trying to reach you at your hotel. I've arranged the lecture for tomorrow.
Holly Martins: Oh? What about?
Crabbin: On the modern novel, you remember? What we arranged. I want you to talk about the crisis of faith.
Holly Martins: What's that?
Crabbin: Oh, I thought you'd know. You're a writer.
Holly Martins: Did you ever read a book of mine called, "The Lone Rider of Santa Fe"?
Sgt. Paine: No, not that one, sir.
Holly Martins: lt's a story about a man who hunted down a sheriff who was victimizing his best friend.
Crabbin: Seems exciting.
Holly Martins: lt is! l'm gunning just
the same way for your Major Callaghan.
Sgt. Paine: Sounds anti-British, sir.
Holly Martins: ls it comedy or tragedy?
Anna Schmidt: Comedy. l don't play tragedy.
Holly Martins: l was told that a third man helped you and Kurtz carry the body.
Popescu: l don't know how you got that idea. You'll find all about it in the police report. There was just the two of us, me and the Baron. Who could have told you a story like that ?