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Soames Forsyte: [In a disparaging way as Young Jolyon is leaving] I understand you're teaching now at some sort of second-rate art school... or something.

Young Jolyon Forsyte: [Replying as he is leaving] The art school is first rate. I'm second rate.

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Soames Forsyte: I wish you'd allow me to choose your friends.

Irene Forsyte: As you choose my dresses?

Soames Forsyte: I think you'd admit that I've made you one of the best-dressed women in London. Surely you have no complaints on that score.

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Old Jolyon Forsyte: I arranged a respectable marriage for the boy.

Irene Forsyte: Uncle Jolyon, do you think marriage without love can be respectable.

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Irene Forsyte: For once I wasn't thinking about the Forsythes.

Soames Forsyte: Then it's about time you did, my dear. When you marry a Forsythe, you become a Forsythe.

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Irene Forsyte: [Seeing Soames for the first time in years in a Parisian gallery] Five years! It's quite a long time! How is London?

Soames Forsyte: [Sadly] Just as gray as ever. Perhaps a little grayer... now.

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Trivia | Goofs | Crazy Credits | Alternate Versions | Connections | Soundtracks

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