“Martha: Oh, I like your anger. I think that's what I like about you most. Your anger.”

“Martha: Fix the kids a drink, George. What would you like to drink, kid– kid.Nick: Honey? what would you like?Honey: Ohhhh, I don't know, dear, a little brandy maybe. "Never mix, never worry!"George: Brandy? Just brandy? Simple, simple…[George turns to Nick.]George: What about you, em… em… em…Nick: Bourbon on the rocks, if you don't mind.George: Mind? I don't mind. I don't think I mind. Martha? Rubbing alcohol for you?Martha: Sure! "Never mix, never worry!”

“You...you've been here quite a long time, haven't you?"What? Oh...yes. Ever since I married What's-her-name. Uh, Martha. Even before that. Forever. Dashed hopes, and good intentions. Good, better, best, bested. How do you like that for a declension, young man?”

“I said I was impressed, Martha. I'm beside myself with jealousy. What do you want me to do, throw up?”

“George, who is out somewhere there in the dark, who is good to me - whom I revile, who can keep learning the games we play as quickly as I can change them. Who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy. And yes, I do wish to be happy. George and Martha: Sad, sad, sad. Whom I will not forgive for having come to rest; for having seen me and having said: “Yes, this will do”. Who has made the hideous, the hurting, the insulting mistake of loving… me, and must be punished for it. George and Martha… Sad, sad, sad.”

“Martha: Truth or illusion, George; you don't know the difference.George: No, but we must carry on as though we did.Martha: Amen.”

“I dance like the wind.”