- Marianne: Sometimes it grieves me that I've never loved anyone. I don't think I've ever been loved either. That distresses me.
- Johan: Now you're being dramatic.
- Marianne: Am I?
- Johan: I know what I feel. I love you in my selfish way. And I think you love me in your fussy, pestering way. We love each other in an earthly and imperfect way.
- Marianne: Our mistake was that we never broke free from our families to create something worthwhile on our own terms.
- Johan: However trite, it's the truth. We're emotional illiterates. We've been taught about anatomy and farming methods in Africa. We've learned mathematical formulas by heart. But we haven't been taught a thing about our souls. We're tremendously ignorant about what makes people tick.
- Marianne: I know why Katarina and Peter go through hell. They don't speak the same language. They have to translate everything into a common language.
- Johan: I think it's simpler than that.
- Marianne: You and I understand each other. We speak the same language. That's what makes us click.
- Johan: I think it's the money.
- Peter: August Strindberg once said, "Could there be anything more terrifying than a husband and wife who hate each other?" What do you say? Child abuse could possibly be worse. But then again, Katarina and I are children. Deep down, Katarina is a little girl who cries because no one comforts her when she falls. And in the opposite corner, I'm a little boy who cries because Katarina can't love me. Even though I'm bad and mean to her.
- Katarina: Well, on the bright side, there can't possibly be anything worse than this.
- Johan: [at a dinner party with friends] Listen to this: "Marianne's eyes are as blue as a folk song and are lit up form within. When I ask her how she copes with it all, she smiles in shy delight and replies that she and Johan both pitch in." Which happens to be true. "'We understand each other,' she replies, brightening as Johan sits down next to her on the heirloom sofa. Proactively, he puts his arm around her, eliciting a smile." Here comes the best bit. "As I take my leave, I notice how they secretly appreciate that fact so they can bask in each other's presence once more. Two souls who have matured together sharing a positive outlook, yet never forgetting to put love in the forefront."
- Marianne: We were mortified when we read it.
- Johan: I considered taking action, but our mothers adored the piece.
- Fru Palm, Journalist: So, how would you describe yourselves in a few words?
- Johan: That's tricky.
- Fru Palm, Journalist: Is it?
- Johan: I might give you the wrong impression.
- Fru Palm, Journalist: You think so?
- Johan: It sounds cocky if I say I'm bright, youthful, successful and sexy. My mind has a global scope, I'm educated and I'm a great mixer. What else? I'm a good friend, even to those less fortunate than myself. I'm sporty, and I'm a good father and a good son. I don't have any debts, and I pay my taxes. I respect our government, no matter what. I love our royal family. I don't belong to the state church. Is that good, or do you want more details? I'm a fantastic lover. Isn't that right, Marianne?
- Fru Palm, Journalist: Maybe we should skip that question. Your turn, Marianne.
- Marianne: What can I say? I'm married to Johan and we have two daughters. I can't think of anything else.
- Fru Palm, Journalist: Sure you can.
- Marianne: I think Johan is very nice.
- Johan: How kind of you.
- Marianne: We've been married for ten years.
- Johan: Yes, I just renewed the contract.
- Marianne: I lack Johan's boundless self-assurance, but in all honesty, I'm happy I lead the life I do. It's a good life, if you know what I mean. What else should I say? This is difficult.
- Johan: She has a great figure.
- Peter: Please forgive us. We don't usually behave like this. But you're our best friends. Our only friends. Forgive me. Forgive us.
- Katarina: Forgive me for being so frank, but Peter's challenging the truth, and he needs to be enlightened. I want you to know this: I find you utterly repulsive. In a physical sense, I mean. I could buy a lay from anyone just to wash you out of my genitals.
- Peter: Katarina is a businessman. With equal emphasis on both parts of the word. Business... man. She's also a brilliant artist. And she has an IQ of I don't know what. And she's attractive, too. A real gem in a stunning package. How such a paragon could ever spread her legs for me is a mystery.
- Katarina: I think it's time to call a cab and go home. It can't be pleasant for Johan and Marianne to witness a scene like this.
- Peter: Johan and Marianne! They're candy figurines wrapped in red ribbons, like the gift-wrapped marzipan pigs of our childhood. It'll do their souls good to catch a glimpse of the depths of hell.
- Marianne: You were right, but so was I. If you don't want to wear a tuxedo, that's your business. I agree. But if I think you should get a new tux, then I have the right to say so.
- Johan: I don't like tuxedos. I hate wearing a tuxedo. It's a ridiculous getup. I feel like a dressed-up chimpanzee.
- Marianne: Yes, you told me that. Let's not quarrel. I love you, even if you won't wear a tux. It's hardly essential to our marriage.
- Marianne: Don't I give you enough affection?
- Johan: Affection takes time.
- Marianne: Then you don't get enough.
- Johan: We don't get enough. Or give enough.
- Marianne: That's why I wanted us to go away this summer.
- Johan: Affection shouldn't be kept just for vacations.
- Marianne: You're nice - for a moron.
- Johan: It's lucky I'm married to you, then.
- Marianne: You have moments of greatness, interspersed with sheer mediocrity.
- Johan: I'm sure that's true.
- Johan: Her frankness can be quite unpleasant. I would prefer not to know anything, but she insists on giving me the details of her erotic past. Which is trying, since I suffer from retrospective jealousy.
- Marianne: Are you good together in bed?
- Johan: Yes, we are, actually. At first it was awful. I wasn't used to it. Being with other women, I mean. I guess you and I have spoiled each other. You and I have taken refuge in a hermetically sealed existence. Everything's been orderly, and it's all gone like clockwork. But the lack of oxygen has smothered us.
- Marianne: And now your little *Paula* will revive you?
- Johan: I don't posses much self-knowledge, and I know very little about reality, in spite of all the books I've read. But I believe that this catastrophe is the chance of a lifetime.
- Marianne: Yesterday I was seized by a reckless gaiety. For the first time this year, I felt a zest for life, eager to know what the day might bring.
- Marianne: Suddenly I turned and looked at an old school picture from back when I was 10. I seemed to detect something that had eluded me up to then. To my surprise I must admit that I don't know who I am. I haven't the vaguest idea. I've always done as I was told. As far as I can remember I've been obedient, well-adjusted, almost meek. I did assert myself once or twice as a girl, but Mother punished any lapses from convention with exemplary severity. My entire upbringing and that of my sisters, was aimed at making us agreeable. I was ugly and awkward, a fact I was constantly reminded of. I later realized that if I kept my thoughts to myself, and was ingratiating and predictable, my behavior yielded rewards. The most momentous deception began at puberty. All my thoughts, feelings and actions revolved around sex. But this I never told my parents. Or anyone at all, for that matter. Being deceitful and secretive became second nature to me. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer. I dropped hints that I wanted to be an actress. You know what? I think I'm breaking free at last. But they laughed at me. Since then I go on pretending. Faking my relationships with others, with men. Always putting on an act in a desperate attempt to please. I've never considered what I want, but only, "What does he want me to want?" It's not unselfishness, as I used to believe. It's sheer cowardice. Even worse, it stems from my being ignorant of who I am.
- Johan: I'll be 45 this summer. I can expect to live another 30 years. Viewed objectively, I'm dead weight. I'll spend the next 20 years being a damn nuisance. I'm an expensive, unproductive unit that ought to be eliminated. And I'm supposed to be in my prime, brimming with experience. But it's, "Throw the loser out. Let him out!" I'm so goddamn tired. I hardly know who I am. Someone spat on me and now I'm drowning in the spittle.
- Marianne: I wanted to have sex with you today to see if I felt anything. All I felt was lukewarm affection. You know what? I think I'm breaking free at last. It's taken a long time and it's been very painful, but I'm free of you now to start my own life, and it feels absolutely wonderful.
- Johan: Allow me to congratulate you.
- Johan: When did you meet?
- Marianne: A few years ago. To be frank, it was a sexual affair.
- Johan: I see.
- Marianne: Henrik is very - how should I put this? Convincing in that respect. He really enjoys sex. And he made me realize that I felt the same way. I wasn't all that keen on it before.
- Johan: So I remember.
- Marianne: I persevere. I enjoy myself. I rely on common sense and my gut feeling. They work in tandem. I'm content with my direction. Time has given me a third partner: experience.
- Johan: Sometimes I wonder why we complicate this problem so awfully. Making love is pretty basic. It shouldn't be a huge, overshadowing issue. It's your mother's fault, if you ask me, though you don't like my saying so.
- Marianne: What a superficial analysis.
- Johan: Don't be a sourpuss. I'm being nice.
- Johan: I'd spent the day with that zombie from the ministry. It makes you wonder about the idiots in charge of our well-being.
- Marianne: Why should we deny ourselves the good things in life? Why can't we be fat and cheerful? Remember Aunt Miriam and Uncle David? They were big, fat and cheerful. They slept in that creaky double bed of theirs, holding hands, content with each other, fat and happy. Why can't we be like them? Brimming with contentment?
- Johan: All these words I'm spouting are just empty talk. I don't imagine for one minute that I've touched on the truth about us. I don't think there is such a thing as the truth.
- Johan: Here are two pictures of her. That one was taken two years ago, when she was on vacation. The passport picture was taken two weeks ago. It's a good likeness.
- Marianne: She has a lovely figure. And lovely breasts. Right?
- Johan: Yes, she has lovely breasts.
- Marianne: Does she dye her hair?
- Johan: It's possible.
- Marianne: What a nice smile. How old is she?
- Johan: Twenty-three
- Marianne: I wonder what I did to cause the breach between us. I know it's a childish way of thinking, but there you are. What did I do wrong?
- Johan: Why not ask a psychiatrist?
- Marianne: I see one several times a week. Sometimes we meet in private.
- Johan: Is he your lover?
- Marianne: We did have sex a few times, but it was no good. So we stopped that and devoted ourselves to my soul instead.
- Johan: What have you learned?
- Marianne: Nothing.
- Johan: There is such a thing as simple affection. To say nothing of sensuousness. And physical desire. In your case, that's all blocked.
- Marianne: Kiss me. I enjoy being kissed by you. Close your eyes or I'll feel self-conscious. Now put your hands on my hips. Good. That's nice. What if the watchman walked in now? He could join us. We're liberated. Let's stay here all night - and just drink and make love.
- Marianne: You're completely out of your mind! Am I supposed to be a doormat? Am I a substitute for your mother?
- Johan: Think of the awareness we've gained. It's magnificent. Almost fantastic. We've discovered ourselves. It's unbelievable. One faces up to his insignificance, the other, to her greatness. Here we are, bad-mouthing our spouses. They're almost right here in this room with us. It's mental group sex to the max!