Fredrik: I'm an artist.
Karin: Artist?
Fredrik: Yes, Princess, a thoroughbred artist: a poet with no poems, a painter with no pictures, a musician with no music. I despise ready... made art, the banal result of vulgar effort. My life is my work and dedicated to my love for you.
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Karin: It's so horrible to see your own confusion and understand it.
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[Fredrik rejects Karin's attempt to console him]
Fredrik: Thanks, I can give myself all the pity I want.
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David: Virility means more than health.
Martin: If Hemingway could, we can. Let's go!
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David: We draw a magic circle and shut out everything that doesn't agree with our secret games. Each time life breaks the circle, the games turn grey and ridiculous. Then we draw a new circle and build a new defense.
Karin: Poor little daddy.
David: Yes, poor little daddy, forced to live in reality.
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Karin: Funny, you always say and do the very right thing... and it's always wrong.
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