- Fru Cronsiöö: There have been many who've chased after her. I never understood what they saw in her. The educated men as well. A very handsome man, who was an art teacher, wanted her as a model. But I told him it was shameful to use her like that. Then there was a law clerk. Yes, of course. He worked here at the courthouse. But of course you gentlemen neither saw nor heard a thing. Blind as bats, you are. Forgive me, but I tell it like it is. There was kissing in the stairwell. I know that for a fact. My door was ajar, so I saw and heard everything.
- Nils Asklund: Are you leaving now?
- Kerstin Norbäck: Stop your shouting.
- Nils Asklund: So the lady leaves once the fun's over.
- Kerstin Norbäck: Was it that much fun?
- Nils Asklund: You bitch!
- Nils Asklund: She was the only one in town who understood this poor bastard. She was like a long voyage to constantly changing ports. And the way she walked. Not only with her feet, like other Swedish girls, but with her hips and thighs. Doctor, you're an intellectual, do you understand what I mean?
- Dr. Berggren: I'll be damned if I do.
- Nils Asklund: Do you know the worst thing in life?
- Dr. Berggren: No, I don't.
- Nils Asklund: It's wanting to give - when the other person won't accept.
- Kerstin Norbäck: It was my fault. Not his. The fault lies with me. I just wanted an adventure. It was Nils Asklund... I didn't realize that I'd chosen the wrong kind of adventure. Girls do on occasion.
- Stefan von Bremen: Åsa, we're both free tonight.
- Åsa: No flirting with the nurses during business hours, Doctor.
- Chefredaktör J:son-Eld: What's this? What sort of tasteless, sensationalistic journalism is done behind my back at my own paper? Some nice little surprise to come home to! Isn't there a night editor who can change that brat's diapers before - there you are, you conceited bastard. Since when do reporters decide the newspaper's position? Soon the janitors or shareholders will tell me what to think. Here I've written an editorial about the rebelliousness of youth, their gangster mentality and promiscuity. All based on that filthy case in Gustafssund. The best article I've ever written. Now how can I publish it?
- Dr. Berggren: There's one condition to your employment. You must change your name. He doesn't want a bunch of hyenas running around his pharmacy. No one but him will know who you really are.
- Chefredaktör J:son-Eld: This girl is pure as an angel, no matter what she's done. Young, passionate, a new Juliet, a child of love and death.
- Willy Wilson: The girl was all right, that's for sure. Nothing special to look at, but damn attractive in a strange way.
- Åsa: Imagine waiting for a lover and then he comes and fires a shot which grazes the heart, the strange heart.
- Stefan von Bremen: What's wrong, Sweetie? Has something happened?
- Åsa: No, nothing. I just longed for you. Now I have you again.
- Stefan von Bremen: And yet, you were reluctant when I asked you to come.
- Åsa: I want to stay with you tonight. Can I?
- Stefan von Bremen: "To belong together without anyone knowing. No light, no home, nor everyday concern to have."
- Jane: It's like you were born on the train that brought you to Stockholm. Why don't you ever talk about yourself like other women do?
- Kerstin Norbäck: There's nothing to tell.
- Jane: If you don't want to, you don't have to.
- Kerstin Norbäck: My childhood - it was poor and ugly. I was always cold. And I always longed to get away.
- Jane: Poor girl. Come. Come sit with me. I'm going to tell you a little secret, but you have to promise not to tell. The worse your childhood, the better your life will be. There has to be some justice.
- Åsa: Everything the newspapers said about her must have been wrong. She didn't seem vampish at all. Just sad and scared.
- Åsa: Did you dislike that I wanted to stay with you? I'm ashamed.
- Stefan von Bremen: Are you the pastor's daughter once again?
- Jane: I was resting here like Diana on her bed of moonlight. Imagine living like this, utterly without lovers. Only yourself to worry about. I wonder how long it'll last.
- Fru Nilsson: Fritjof was home all day today. We pickled herring. He passed me one little herring after the other. He's such a wonderful man! He loves my pickled herring.
- Stefan von Bremen: I've requested a month off. I was thinking of touring around in the car. Won't you come along?
- Åsa: No, I won't. I won't pretend to be your wife lying to innkeepers and maids. No. You know I can't lie.
- Kerstin Norbäck: Didn't it go as you expected?
- Nickan: He's a real scoundrel. He just wanted to seduce me. And I loved him so much. So much. And he got a raise. But he doesn't care about me. Not in the way that matters. Only in an obscene way. He was terribly obscene. And just think if I had my own room. All to myself. Like you do. I don't know what would have happened. If only he loved me!
- Greven: Out here, all around you, this glorious June night of Stockholm simply glows with its wonderful enchantment. Nothing more seductive can be conjured up. Have you heard of the famous Roman Saturnalia? Really? No? The Saturnalia was held once a year to celebrate the return of the light. Everything was joyous. Everything was delightful. Slaves and masters drank together, and secret desires flourished during the day, or rather, the night. The morning after, all was forgotten. The June night is our Saturnalia. Enjoy its bright lies, for tomorrow all is forgotten.
- Stefan von Bremen: I'm a doctor. Of course I'm interested in the old man's skillful operation. Imagine touching a red, bloody heart, while life stands by, holding its breath, for arteries and muscles to return.
- Fru Nilsson: I know what you're up to. You stand there on the stairs, kissing and climbing all over them.
- Nickan: I do not.
- Fru Nilsson: You should be ashamed. They don't even care for you.
- Nickan: Ah, blah, blah, blah, blah...
- Nickan: No, Willy.
- Willy Wilson: Nickan, I'm crazy about you. Can't I come up with you?
- Nickan: No!
- Willy Wilson: Yes, I must kiss you.
- Nickan: No, Willy.
- Willy Wilson: A real kiss. It's just up the stairs. What are you afraid of? Everybody does it. It's not dangerous. Nickan.
- Nickan: At least tell me you love me. Do you, by the way?
- Willy Wilson: Nickan, I can't be without you. You drive me crazy. I can't control myself. We'll be quiet. Can't I come upstairs? Don't be silly, Nickan.
- Nickan: You're insane. You know I have a roommate.
- Kerstin Norbäck: I don't think you should hate her. At the age of 19 after working all day, you don't have the energy to hate like this at night. Go to bed instead.
- Nickan: How am I supposed to sleep?
- Kerstin Norbäck: Get your pillow and blanket and sleep on the couch. That way you won't be alone. I'll talk to you.
- Nickan: Can I sleep here instead? If I can lie here and read, perhaps I'll fall asleep.
- Kerstin Norbäck: Come on then.
- [Kerstin welcomes Nickan into her bed]
- Stefan von Bremen: Strange that we should meet this way.
- Kerstin Norbäck: I have such a silly heart. I can't handle anything.
- Kerstin Norbäck: You can't understand. Nobody understands me. I'm all alone in the world.
- Stefan von Bremen: Tell me and there will be two. I'll understand.
- Kerstin Norbäck: He fell in love. He told me about things that you dream of. Calm nights, the heat of the sun, coal smoke in the trade winds, and big colored women with eyes like mother-of-pearl.
- Stefan von Bremen: Did you like him very much?
- Kerstin Norbäck: Yes. Why would I deny it? He was the first person I cared about. I was grateful for it. And I wanted to give him something in return.
- Stefan von Bremen: And then?
- Kerstin Norbäck: And then it turned out we were too different anyway.
- Nickan: Next time I'll wear the girdle under and my panties over. The skirt looks better like that.
- Fru Nilsson: No. No, you shouldn't wear a girdle at all. Fritjof says men hate flat - you know.
- [last lines]
- Jane: I'll tell you exactly what will happen to us. Come. Hurry up. You know what? I think we'll close the window first.
- Willy Wilson: What have I actually done? I've done my job. Publish a paper that prints only recipes, baptisms, bridge inaugurations, statue unveilings, and literary articles and it'll go to hell within a week. Because what is it the public wants? Murder, manslaughter, robberies, war, and misery. It has to be something sensational so they read past the headlines. Other people's misery goes great with the morning coffee. We reporters are no worse than the public makes us.
- Chefredaktör J:son-Eld: You've got a certain nose for news. A certain go-getter spirit. But, you lack taste, my boy. You see, that girl was once interesting and sympathetic. She represented a particular type: the passionate who follow their own destiny. Then it was right to write about her. But not more than once. One more time? No. That would seem like persecution. It would be both tasteless and tactless. You see, a newspaperman must have tact. You're too young, too green, and too self-absorbed and cruel, as youth is. But, it will pass.
- Chefredaktör J:son-Eld: No. It's not decent. But why is the switchboard girl meddling in editorial matters?
- Kerstin Norbäck: Maybe I have a tendency to exaggerate.
- Jane: It could happen to anyone on a bright June night.