Madame Arcati: Is there anyone there? Is there anyone there? One wrap for yes. Two wraps for no. Is there anyone there?
Ruth Condomine: There's no need to be aggressive, Charles. I'm doing my best to help you.
Charles Condomine: A good morning. A tremendously good morning! There isn't a cloud in the sky and everything looks newly washed.
Violet Bradman: Its funny, isn't it, I mean to think of people doing it as a profession.
Dr. George Bradman: I believe its very lucrative.
Charles Condomine: Poor Ruth.
Elvira Condomine: Nuts to Ruth.
Charles Condomine: Promise you'll do what I ask.
Elvira Condomine: Well, that depends on what it is.
Charles Condomine: Are you a - ghost?
Elvira Condomine: I suppose I must be. Its all very confusing.
Charles Condomine: But, listen, Ruth, please.
Ruth Condomine: I will not listen to any more of this nonsense. I'm going upstairs to bed now. I shall leave you to turn off the lights. I won't be asleep. I'm much too upset. So, you can come in and say good night to me. If you feel like it.
Ruth Condomine: Edith, you know the cocktail shaker?
Edith: Yes 'em.
Ruth Condomine: Well, I want you to fill two of those long stem glasses from it and bring them up here.
Edith: Yes 'em.
Ruth Condomine: And Edith, as you're not in the Navy, its unnecessary to do everything on the double.
Edith: Very good, ma'am.
Ruth Condomine: And Edith, when you're serving dinner, try to remember to do it calmly, methodically.
Edith: Yes 'em.
Ruth Condomine: Now, go and get the cocktails.
Charles Condomine: A woman in Cynthia Chavitz's position. Would hardly wear false pearls.
Elvira Condomine: Well, they were practically all she was wearing.
Charles Condomine: As I'm pained to observe that seven years in the echoing vaults of eternity have in no way pared your native vulgarity.
Elvira Condomine: That was the remark of a pompous ass.
Ruth Condomine: Alcohol will ruin your whole life if you allow it to get ahold on you, you know.
Charles Condomine: Once and for all, Ruth, I'd like you to understand that what happened last night was nothing whatever to do with alcohol! I grant you it may have been some form of psychic delusion, but I was stone cold sober from first to last.
Ruth Condomine: Oh, to blazes with Elvira.
Madame Arcati: Some mediums prefer Indians, of course. But, personally I've always found them unreliable.
Ruth Condomine: In what way, unreliable?
Madame Arcati: Well, to start with, they're frightfully lazy. Also, when faced with any sort of difficulty, they're apt to go off into their own tribal language - which is naturally unintelligible. That generally spoils everything and wastes a good deal of time.
Elvira Condomine: Get me to bed, Charles. Then we can talk in peace.
Charles Condomine: A thoroughly immoral suggestion. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Charles Condomine: Are you to be here indefinitely?
Elvira Condomine: I'm afraid I don't know that either. Why? Would you hate it so much if I was?
Charles Condomine: Well, you must admit, it'd be embarrassing.
Elvira Condomine: I don't see why, really. Its all a question of adjusting one's self.
Charles Condomine: It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit.
Charles Condomine: Try to see my point of view, dear. I've been married to Ruth for five years and you've been dead for seven.
Elvira Condomine: Not dead, Charles. Passed over. Its considered very vulgar to say dead where I come from.
Elvira Condomine: Oh, I want to cry. But, I don't think I'm able to.
Charles Condomine: Well, what would you want to cry for?
Elvira Condomine: Well, at seeing you again and you being so irascible like you always used to be.
Charles Condomine: Well, I don't mean to be irascible, Elvira.
Elvira Condomine: Darling, I don't mind. Really. I never did.
Madame Arcati: We might contact a poltergeist - which would be extremely destructive and noisy.
Ruth Condomine: In what way destructive?
Madame Arcati: They throw things, you know.
Ruth Condomine: No. I didn't know.
Madame Arcati: Now, what have we here? Brahms. Oh, dear me. No. Rachmaninoff. Too florid. Where's the dance music?
