Elizabeth Barrett: What's another disaster to one who has known little but disaster all her life? But you're a fighter. You were born for victory and triumph. Oh, and if disaster ever came to you through me...
Robert Browning: Yes, a fighter. But I'm sick of fighting alone. I need a comrade in arms to fight beside me.
Elizabeth Barrett: But not one already wounded in battle.
Robert Browning: Wounded but undaunted, unbeaten, unbroken. What finer comrade could a man ask for?
Henrietta Barrett: Is it nothing to you that I shall hate you for this to the end of my life?
Edward Moulton-Barrett: Less than nothing.
Henrietta Barrett: Papa, please. I'm not a bad girl, I swear I'm not, only I love him, I love him. He's a good man, it can't be wrong to love him. I want love, I can't live without love. Oh Papa, remember how you loved Mama and how she loved you!
Edward Moulton-Barrett: Elizabeth, give me your Bible.
Elizabeth Barrett: My Bible belonged to Mama. I can't have it used for such a purpose.
Edward Moulton-Barrett: Give me your Bible.
Elizabeth Barrett: No.
Edward Moulton-Barrett: You refuse?
Elizabeth Barrett: Yes.
Elizabeth Barrett: Robert, have you ever thought that my strength may break down on the journey?
Robert Browning: It had occurred to me, yes.
Elizabeth Barrett: Supposing I were to die on your hands?
Robert Browning: Are you afraid, Ba?
Elizabeth Barrett: Afraid. You should know that I would rather die with you beside me than live a hundred lives without you. But how would you feel if I were to die? And what would the world say of you?
Robert Browning: I should be branded as a little better than a murderer. What I should feel... I leave you to imagine.
Elizabeth Barrett: And yet you ask me to come with you?
Robert Browning: Yes. I am prepared to risk your life, much more my own, to get you out of that dreadful house and into the sun and to have you for my wife.
Elizabeth Barrett: You love me like that?
Robert Browning: I love you like that.
Robert Browning: [about one of his poems] When that passage was written, only God and Robert Browning understood it. Now, only God understands it!
Edward Moulton-Barrett: I shall never in any way reproach you. You shall never know by deed or word or hint of mine how much you have grieved and wounded your father by refusing to do the little thing he asked.