Frieda: I'm dying, Paris.
Jack McCann: Wait, what happens now?
Frieda: A mystery. The end of the beginning.
Tracy: What did you do for girls up here.
Jack McCann: I guess we did without. Unlike some people I know.
Tracy: Suppose I'd been here. Would you have given me a second glance?
Jack McCann: No. My darling Tracy, I never would have taken my eyes off you.
Tracy: You know, yesterday, last night, was the most extraordinary day of my life. There will never be another day or night like it. Ever. I've never been so happy. So miserable.
Tracy: [testifying] I loved my father before I loved you.
Claude Maillot Van Horn: Was he more violent than me?
Tracy: Stop asking me about violence!
Claude Maillot Van Horn: Your father was savagely murdered, beaten, his head cut off. I'm on trial for my life. If I'm found guilty they'll hang me by the neck. This isn't a time or place to be shy about violence.
Claude Maillot Van Horn: [on trial] Please Tracy, tell them who do you think I am. When you look at me, what do you see?
Jack McCann: I see, um, a man unbuttoning a new frock for the first time. And trying to get me tipsy while stay sober himself. Because he's beginning to realize I could hold a hell of a lot of liquor. I see a man with other women; secretive, dissatisfied with me. Telling lies, small ones, but needing me more than anything. I see a man who can't pass a mirror without looking into it. A man whose face hangs over mine at night. Like a moon, a guide. I see a picture of love, only you can't put it into a picture. It's two people in league with each other, who want each other. They're willing to kill or die for it.
Claude Maillot Van Horn: Please Tracy, for God's sake.
Jack McCann: No, for our sake, Claude. You want the truth that's what love is, isn't it? Truth? True love, true love is what goes on and on. It never stops. Down and down in the water 'til you're drowning. And it's on shore, on the sand, in the back of a car. Then it's on the bed, it's an electric bed isn't it? Like an electric chair as it was switched on until neither of us can stop it. Shouting and shuttering, electric bed, on and on and on, until you think you're dead.
Tracy: I'm talking about what happened to Jack McCann. On that day, in the winder of 1925, when he first found the gold. He'd been looking for 15 years. Day after day, week after week, year after year. And then one day he found it. How could he ever recapture that moment of triumph? He couldn't share the gold. That was his and his alone. How he realized that his joy at having done what he set out to do, all alone, was gone! Poor Jack. He was like a man struck by lightening. One moment of rapture, followed by decades of despair. Jack McCann wasn't murdered three weeks ago in his bedroom at Eureka. He died in 1925. What happened that night was just his physical end. He needed someone to finish him off. And that night he found him, just as he had found the gold.
Claude Maillot Van Horn: [looking into mirror] I knew it would be you.
Jack McCann: There's gold, and it's haunting and haunting. It's luring me on as of old. And it isn't the gold that I'm wanting, so much as just finding the gold. It's a great big broad land way up yonder, it's the forest where silence has lease. It's the beauty that thrills me with wonder. It's the stillness that fills me with peace.