Zachary Morgan: [meeting her at the women's prison gate] Mary, I didn't want to make you cry.
Mary Marshall: There's nothing wrong with crying at a time like this.
Zachary Morgan: The minute I got on the train, I knew why you didn't tell me.
Mary Marshall: Nothing matters, except that you're here.
Zachary Morgan: I'm terribly ashamed of walking out like that. I need you, Mary. I want to feel that you need me.
Mary Marshall: Oh, I do. I do.
Zachary Morgan: I'll be right here. I'll be right here waiting. I'll be all well by then. Ready to make a new start, too.

Zachary Morgan: [Mrs. Marshall comes in with a flaming plum pudding] I never could figure out why the pudding never gets burned.
Mary Marshall: I've never been able to figure that out either. Must be the alcohol in the brandy.
Zachary Morgan: I think.
Mr. Marshall: Personally, I think it's a shame to burn good brandy. That quart I brought home last week was imported cognac.
Mrs. Marshall: Oh, don't worry, Henry, I didn't burn up the whole quart.
Barbara Marshall: Oh, I wouldn't trust Mom with it, Dad.
Mr. Marshall: Maybe you're right. Remember last year, how Mom got going on just a glass of sherry?
Mrs. Marshall: Now I'm not going to listen to that again!
Barbara Marshall: You may not believe this about your dear Aunt Sarah, but last year she got high as a kite.
Zachary Morgan: If they're trying to drag out a family skeleton, Mrs. Marshall, I won't listen to them.
Mrs. Marshall: Oh, it's just one of those little things that happen, people start exaggerating.
Mr. Marshall: Exaggerate, my eye! It's as true as I sit here. Last year, Mother and I had a glass of sherry to bring in the new year. And then we went to a little gathering, all the way across town, it was. Mother had her skirt on backwards!
Mrs. Marshall: See here, Henry, if you're in such good voice, how about a Christmas carol?

Zachary Morgan: Mary, I want to tell you why I got mad at that guy in the coffee shop last night, and why I walked away from you after I threw that rock at the lamppost and missed it.
Mary Marshall: I knew there must be some reason, but you don't have to tell me.
Zachary Morgan: Look, I was brought up in a home, an orphan's home.
Mary Marshall: That's nothing to be ashamed of.
Zachary Morgan: I'm not. It's not like being in prison, or anything like that.
Mary Marshall: No.
Zachary Morgan: Well, in the home there was a janitor. This fellow had been in the last war. A young guy. He was a shell shock case. Whenever we could get our hands on any firecrackers, we'd bang them off and laugh at him when he jumped. Well, that fellow in the coffee shop reminded me of the janitor, and they both made me think of myself and what I'd be like in a few years. Only difference is, that now in the hospital, they have a fancy name for it: neuropsychiatric.
Mary Marshall: The doctors must know a lot more about it now than they did during the last war.
Zachary Morgan: Maybe. They don't know something about me that I know. You see, before I became an engineer, I was an athlete, a pretty good one. I know what my timing used to be, they don't, and it's gone, Mary. Before this happened to me, I could have hit that lamppost all day. I don't know why I'm bothering you with all this. Yes, I do. I know why I'm bothering you. Because I feel so much better when I talk to you. I like to be with you.

Mrs. Marshall: [Mary picks up an evening dress in a dress shop] You like this one, don't you, Mary?
Mary Marshall: It's lovely.
Mrs. Marshall: Then you're going to have it.
Mary Marshall: Oh, no. Uh-uh.
Mrs. Marshall: Now, you listen to me, Mary. You can't wear the same clothes day after day, your soldier boy's going to get tired of them.
Mary Marshall: Well, I've been fooling him well enough so far. I've been wearing one blouse after another. I don't need a dress, dear.
Mrs. Marshall: Now, Zach's made a big thing of inviting us all to this New Year's Eve party. You can't wear a suit.
Mary Marshall: Uh-uh. I'll manage.
Mrs. Marshall: Henry and I have talked it over. We want you to have a dress.
[Mary shakes her head]
Mrs. Marshall: Oh, Henry will be so disappointed if you don't accept it.
Mary Marshall: Darling, I'll only be able to wear it once. It'll be out of style in three years.
Mrs. Marshall: Then we'll burn it. Miss?
Saleslady: Yes?
Mrs. Marshall: My niece would like to try on this dress.
Saleslady: Oh, it'll be fine on you.
Mrs. Marshall: Go on, dear. Try it on.
Mary Marshall: Well, all right. I'll try it on.

Mrs. Marshall: Oh, I understood, Mary. When Zach said he was a stranger, you felt as if the words were coming from your own lips.
Mr. Marshall: Might have happened to any girl. Could have been just Christmas sentiment. Good night, Mary.
Mary Marshall: Good night, Uncle Henry.
Mr. Marshall: Good night. Don't forget to turn out the lights, Sarah.
Mrs. Marshall: All right, dear. So don't worry about making a scene.
Mary Marshall: Well, I'm not worrying about that, Aunt Sarah. I was just wondering if I shouldn't tell him about me.
Mrs. Marshall: Oh, not for the world.
Mary Marshall: You don't think so?
Mrs. Marshall: Well, why?
Mary Marshall: Well, he trusts me, and it doesn't seem fair.
Mrs. Marshall: Oh, there's no reason for it, Mary. He'll only be here for a few days. He's lonely, and you're making things pleasant for him.
Mary Marshall: That's not the reason I'm seeing him, Aunt Sarah. Because I like him. I like him a lot.
Mrs. Marshall: Of course you do, dear, but it isn't as if you were going to marry him.
Mary Marshall: No. It's not as if I was going to marry him.
Mrs. Marshall: I didn't mean it like that, dear.
Mary Marshall: I know.
Mrs. Marshall: Have fun, Mary. See Zach everyday, if you like. Act like any other girl.
Mary Marshall: I try, Aunt Sarah, but I can't seem to make myself feel like any other girl. I just feel like me.
Mrs. Marshall: And that's pretty darn good. Now you have fun.

Mrs. Marshall: You haven't changed, Mary. Not at all.
Mary Marshall: Thank you, Aunt Sarah. Oh, it's so good to be here.
Mrs. Marshall: I'm so glad to have you with us, dear. Awfully glad. Barbara, come on down! You can share Barbara's room.
Mary Marshall: Oh, dear, I don't want to disturb anybody. I, don't ...
Mrs. Marshall: Oh, nonsense. Barbara will love to have you. Here, for heaven's sake, give me your coat. Anyway, it's the guest room, or it was before Barbara was born. Besides, I think it would be a very good thing for Barbara. She's seventeen.
Mary Marshall: Seventeen?
Mrs. Marshall: And she's pretty, spoiled, and at an age, oh, you know. I think an older girl will be a very good thing for her right now. Like you. Yes, like you. Now, there's a million things to talk about, but first you want to wash up.
Barbara Marshall: [coming downstairs] Hello, Mary. I'm awfully glad to see you.
Mary Marshall: Hello, Barbara. Why, I never would have known you. She's grown into a beauty.
Barbara Marshall: Welcome home.
Mrs. Marshall: Take Mary up to your room, dear.
Barbara Marshall: Follow me, lady, to my boudoir. Although it's small, not much bigger than a cell. Oh, I'm sorry, Mary.
Mary Marshall: Look, there's just one thing. We all know that I've been in prison, and I'm going back in eight days. And there's no use pretending it isn't so. It just won't be any good unless everybody says what he thinks, and doesn't try to cover up.
Mrs. Marshall: Oh, you're a fine girl, Mary. Now go up and see your room.

Mrs. Marshall: You must have been looking forward to it, Mary.
Mary Marshall: I was looking forward to seeing you, Aunt Sarah.
Mrs. Marshall: Oh, that's sweet of you, dear.
Mary Marshall: As a matter of fact, selfish. I've been doing a lot of thinking in the past three years, Aunt Sarah, and...
Mrs. Marshall: What sort of things were you thinking, Mary?
Mary Marshall: Coming out into the world and... Even coming here, I had a feeling that ...
Mrs. Marshall: Honey, you've got to stop being afraid. You've got to stop feeling that you're branded like people were in the old days. You've done something. You're paying your debt to society. Most people are willing to let it go at that.
Mary Marshall: I know, Aunt Sarah, but coming out into the world and seeing everybody in uniform, everybody doing something... I just don't belong. I don't fit in. And dreams that I've had for the future are just impossible.
Mrs. Marshall: Well, most dreams are, Mary. It's just the dreaming that counts. Nobody gets exactly what he wants out of life. One of the first things you learn is to make compromises with your dreams.
Mary Marshall: But I'm not talking about palaces and rainbows, Aunt Sarah. I'm talking about a home. A home like this with a kitchen and a stove and an icebox, and a husband, and a child.
Mrs. Marshall: Yes, I have all that. Yet I used to dream about palaces and rainbows.
Mary Marshall: But you're happy.
Mrs. Marshall: Of course. Because I didn't hold out for too much. I accepted what I thought was second best and made that do. Oh, it's something that everybody learns sooner or later. You have to get used to accepting what you think is second best, and then you find out it's first best after all.

Mr. Marshall: [after they sing a Christmas carol together] Well, it feels pretty comfortable to have another man's voice around at Christmastime.
Mrs. Marshall: I'm sure Barbara's doing her best to arrange that for you, Henry.
Barbara Marshall: Oh, mother.
Mrs. Marshall: Oh, darling. Maybe family jokes are in bad taste. They make the guest feel out of place.
Zachary Morgan: No, ma'am. I haven't felt so easy in a long time. This is the best Christmas dinner I ever had. Yesterday, I was a stranger here. I mean, I felt like a prisoner inside myself. Now, just to be in a home like this, with people like you, maybe someplace I can come back to next month, or next year...

Senator Hugh B. Emmett: Sergeant, we would like to get the point of view of the soldiers about several things.
Zachary Morgan: Soldiers?
Senator Hugh B. Emmett: Yes. We would like to know from you what the soldier thinks.
Zachary Morgan: Thinks about what?
Senator Hugh B. Emmett: Thinks about political issues.
Zachary Morgan: Senator, I don't know. What gives you the idea that just because a fellow puts on a soldier suit he thinks any differently from anybody else?
[looking around at the soldiers around him]
Zachary Morgan: What does the soldier think? I tell you, last time some of us voted for Roosevelt, and some of us didn't. Some of us weren't old enough to vote. Some soldiers think labor's got a right to strike, and some soldiers think labor's got no rights at all. A lot of soldiers got one idea about what should happen after war, a lot of soldiers have other ideas. Me? I haven't the slightest notion what a lot of soldiers think. Senator, thanks for the cigar.