Private Lives Quotes

“Strange how potent cheap music is.”
― Noel Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“AMANDA: I think very few people are completely normal really, deep down in their private lives.”
― Noel Coward, Private Lives an Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“It's a pity you didn't have a little more brandy. It might have made you more agreeable!”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“There isn't a particle of you that I don't know, remember, and want.”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“Let's be superficial and pity the poor philosophers. Let's blow trumpets and squeakers, and enjoy the party as much as we can, like very small, quite idiotic school-children. Let's savour the delight of the moment. Come and kiss me darling, before your body rots, and worms pop in and out of your eye sockets.”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“AMANDA: I said ridiculous ass!

ELYOT [with great dignity]: Thank you. [There is a silence. AMANDA gets up, and turns the gramophone on] You'd better turn that off, I think.

AMANDA [coldly]: Why?

ELYOT: It's very late and it will annoy the people upstairs.

AMANDA: There aren't any people upstairs. It's a photographer's studio.

ELYOT: There are people downstairs, I suppose?

AMANDA: They're away in Tunis.

ELYOT: This is no time of the year for Tunis.

[He turns the gramophone off.]

AMANDA [icily]: Turn it on again, please.

ELYOT: I'll do no such thing.

AMANDA: Very well, if you insist on being boorish and idiotic.

[She gets up and turns it on again.]

ELYOT: Turn it off. It's driving me mad.

AMANDA: You're far too temperamental. Try to control yourself.

ELYOT: Turn it off.

AMANDA: I won't. [ELYOT rushes at the gramophone. AMANDA tries to ward him off. They struggle silently for a moment, then the needle screeches across the record] There now, you've ruined the record.

[She takes it off and scrutinizes it.]

ELYOT: Good job, too.

AMANDA: Disagreeable pig.

ELYOT [suddenly stricken with remorse]: Amanda darling, Sollocks.

AMANDA [furiously]: Sollocks yourself.

[She breaks the record over his head.]

ELYOT [staggering]: You spiteful little beast.

[He slaps her face. She screams loudly and hurls herself sobbing with rage on to the sofa, with her face buried in the cushions.]

AMANDA [wailing]: Oh, oh, oh-

ELYOT: I'm sorry, I didn't mean it -- I'm sorry, darling, I swear
I didn't mean it.

AMANDA: Go away, go away, I hate you.

[ELYOT kneels on the sofa and tries to pull her round to look at him.]

ELYOT: Amanda -- listen -- listen --

AMANDA [turning suddenly, and fetching him a welt across the face]: Listen indeed; I'm sick and tired of listening to you, you damned sadistic bully.

ELYOT [with great grandeur]: Thank you. [He stalks towards the door, in stately silence. AMANDA throws a cushion at him, which misses him and knocks down a lamp and a vase on the side table. ELYOT laughs falsely] A pretty display I must say.

AMANDA [wildly]: Stop laughing like that.

ELYOT [continuing]: Very amusing indeed.

AMANDA [losing control]: Stop--stop--stop-- [She rushes at him, he grabs her hands and they sway about the room, until he manages to twist her round by the arms so that she faces him, closely, quivering with fury]--I hate you--do you hear? You're conceited, and overbearing, and utterly impossible!

ELYOT [shouting her down]: You're a vile-tempered, loose-living; wicked little beast, and I never want to see you again so long as I live.

[He flings her away from him, she staggers, and falls against a chair. They stand gasping at one another in silence for a moment.]

AMANDA [very quietly]: This is the end, do you understand? The end, finally and forever.”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“[...]

ELYOT: You really can be more irritating than anyone in the world.

AMANDA: I fail to see what I've done that's so terribly irritating.

ELYOT: You have no tact.

AMANDA: Tact. You have no consideration.

ELYOT [walking up and down]: Too soon after dinner indeed.

AMANDA: Yes, much too soon.

ELYOT: That sort of remark shows rather a common sort of mind, I'm
afraid.

AMANDA: Oh it does, does it?

ELYOT: Very unpleasant, makes me shudder.

AMANDA: Making all this fuss just because your silly vanity is a little
upset.

ELYOT: Vanity: What do you mean, vanity?

AMANDA: You can't bear the thought that there are certain moments when our chemical, what d'you call 'ems, don't fuse properly.

ELYOT [derisively]: Chemical what d'you call 'ems: Please try to be more explicit.

AMANDA: You know perfectly well what I mean, and don't you try to patronize me.

ELYOT [loudly]: Now look here, Amanda-

AMANDA [suddenly]: Darling, Sollocks! Oh, for God's sake, Sollocks!

ELYOT: But listen-

AMANDA: Sollocks, Sollocks, Oh dear-triple Sollocks!

[They stand looking at one another in silence for a moment, then AMANDA flings herself down on the sofa and buries her face in the cushion. ELYOT looks at her, then goes over to the piano. He sits down
and begins to play idly. AMANDA raises her head, screws herself round on the sofa, and lies there listening. ELYOT blows a kiss to her and goes on playing. He starts to sing softly to her, never taking his eyes off her. When he has finished the little refrain, whatever it was, he still continues to play it looking at her.]

AMANDA: Big romantic stuff, darling.

ELYOT [smiling]: Yes, big romantic stuff.

[He wanders off into another tune. AMANDA Sits tip crossedlegged on the sofa, and begins to sing it, then, still singing, she comes over and perches on the piano. They sing several old refrains from dead and gone musical comedies finishing with the song that brought them together again in the first act. Finally AMANDA comes down and sits
next to him on the piano stool, they both therefore have their backs half turned to the audience. She rests her head on his shoulder, until finally his fingers drop off the keys, and they melt into one another's arms.]

ELYOT [after a moment]: You're the most thrilling, exciting woman that was ever born.

AMANDA [standing up, and brushing her hand lightly over his mouth]: Dearest, dearest heart.

[He catches at her hand and kisses it, and then her arm, until he is standing up, embracing her ardently. She struggles a little, half laughing, and breaks away, but he catches her, and they finish up on the sofa again, clasped in each other's arms, both completely given up to the passion of the moment, until the telephone bell rings violently, and they both spring apart.]”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“AMANDA: Do you realize that we're living in sin?

ELYOT: Not according to the Catholics; Catholics don't recognize divorce. We're married as much as ever we were.

AMANDA: Yes, dear, but we're not Catholics.

ELYOT: Never mind, it's nice to think they'd sort of back us up. We were married in the eyes of heaven, and we still are.

AMANDA: We may be alright in the eyes of Heaven, but we look like being in the hell of a mess socially.

ELYOT: Who cares?

AMANDA: Are we going to marry again, after Victor and Sibyl divorce us?

ELYOT: I suppose so. What do you think?

AMANDA: I feel rather scared of marriage really.

ELYOT: It is a frowsy business.

AMANDA: I believe it was just the fact of our being married, and clamped together publicly, that wrecked us before.

ELYOT: That, and not knowing bow to manage each other.

AMANDA: Do you think we know how to manage each other now?

ELYOT: This week's been very successful. We've hardly used Solomon Isaacs at all.

AMANDA: Solomon Isaacs is so long, let's shorten it to Sollocks.

ELYOT: All right.

AMANDA: Darling, you do look awfully sweet in your little dressing-gown.

ELYOT: Yes, it's pretty ravishing, isn't it?

AMANDA: Do you mind if I come round and kiss you?

[...]

AMANDA: We're tormenting one another. Sit down, sweet, I'm scared.

ELYOT [Slowly]: Very well.

[He sits down thoughtfully.]

AMANDA: We should have said Sollocks ages ago.

ELYOT: We're in love all right.

[...]

AMANDA: [Victor] had a positive mania for looking after me, and protecting me.

ELYOT: That would have died down in time, dear.

AMANDA: You mustn't be rude; there's no necessity to be rude.

ELYOT: I wasn't in the least rude; I merely made a perfectly rational statement.

AMANDA: Your voice was decidedly bitter.

ELYOT: Victor bad glorious legs, hadn't he? And fascinating ears.

AMANDA: Don't be silly.

ELYOT: He probably looked radiant in the morning, all flushed and tumbled on the pillow.

AMANDA: I never saw him on the pillow.

ELYOT: I'm surprised to hear it.

AMANDA [angrily]: Elyot!

ELYOT: There's no need to be cross.

AMANDA: What did you mean by that?

ELYOT: I'm sick of listening to you yap, yap, yap, yap, yap, yapping about Victor.

AMANDA: Now listen Elyot, once and for all --,

ELYOT: Oh my dear, Sollocks! Sollocks! -- two minutes -- Sollocks.

AMANDA: But --

ELYOT [firmly]: Sollocks! [They sit in dead silence, looking at each other. AMANDA makes a sign that she wants a cigarette. ELYOT gets up, hands her the box, and lights one for her and himself. AMANDA rises and walks over to the window, and stands there, looking out for a moment. Presently ELYOT joins her. She slips her arm through his, and they kiss lightly. They draw the curtains and then come down and sit side by side on the sofa. ELYOT looks at his watch. AMANDA raises her eyebrows at him and he nods, then they both sigh, audibly] That was a near thing.

AMANDA: It was my fault. I'm terribly sorry, darling.

ELYOT: I was very irritating, I know I was. I'm sure Victor was awfully nice, and you're perfectly right to be sweet about him.

AMANDA: That's downright handsome of you. Sweetheart!

[She kisses him.]

ELYOT [leaning back with her on the sofa]: I think I love you more than ever before. Isn't it ridiculous? Put your feet up.

[She puts her legs across his, and they snuggle back together in the corner of the sofa, his head resting on her
shoulder.]”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“AMANDA: We're being so bad, so terribly bad, we'll suffer for this, I know we shall.

ELYOT: Can't be helped.

AMANDA: Starting all those awful rows all over again.

ELYOT: No, no, we're older and wiser now.

AMANDA: What difference does that make? The first moment either of us gets a bit nervy, off we'll go again.

ELYOT: Stop shilly-shallying, Amanda.

AMANDA: I'm trying to be sensible.

ELYOT: You're only succeeding in being completely idiotic.

AMANDA: Idiotic indeed! What about you?

ELYOT: Now look here Amanda

AMANDA[stricken]: Oh my God!

ELYOT [rushing to her and kissing her]: Darling, darling, I didn't mean it.

AMANDA: I won't move from here unless we have a compact, a sacred, sacred compact never to quarrel again.

ELYOT: Easy to make but difficult to keep.

AMANDA: No, no, it's the bickering that always starts it. The moment we notice we're bickering, either of us, we must promise on our honor to stop dead. We'll invent some phrase or catchword, which when either of us says it, automatically cuts off all conversation for at least five minutes.

ELYOT: Two minutes dear, with an option of renewal.

AMANDA: Very well, what shall it be?

ELYOT [hurriedly]: Solomon Isaacs.

AMANDA: All right, that'll do.

ELYOT: Come on, come on.

AMANDA: What shall we do if we meet either of them on the way downstairs?

ELYOT: Run like stags.

AMANDA: What about clothes?

ELYOT: I've got a couple of bags I haven't unpacked yet.

AMANDA: I've got a small trunk.

ELYOT: Send the porter up for it.

AMANDA: Oh this is terrible - terrible -

ELYOT: Come on, come on, don't waste time.

AMANDA: Oughtn't we to leave notes or something?

ELYOT: No, no, no, we'll telegraph from somewhere on the road.

AMANDA: Darling, I daren't, it's too wicked of us, I simply daren't.

ELYOT [seizing her in his arms and kissing her violently]: Now will you behave?

AMANDA: Yes, but Elyot darling -

ELYOT: Solomon Isaacs!”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“AMANDA [overriding him]: Now, Victor, I refuse to discuss anything in the least important until after breakfast. I couldn't concentrate now, I know I couldn't.”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“AMANDA: Don't laugh at me, I'm serious.

ELYOT [seriously]: You mustn't be serious, my dear one; it's just what they want.

AMANDA: Who's they?

ELYOT: All the futile moralists who try to make life unbearable. Laugh at them. Be flippant. Laugh at everything, all their sacred shibboleths. Flippancy brings out the acid in there damned sweetness and light.

AMANDA: If I laugh at everything, I must laugh at us too.

ELYOT: Certainly you must. We're figures of fun all right.

AMANDA: How long will it last, this ludicrous, overbearing love of ours?

ELYOT: Who knows?

AMANDA: Shall we always want to bicker and fight?

ELYOT: No, that desire will fade, along with our passion.

AMANDA: Oh dear, shall we like that?

ELYOT: It all depends on how well we've played.

AMANDA: What happens if one of us dies? Does the one that's left still laugh?

ELYOT: Yes, yes, with all his might.

AMANDA [wistfully clutching his hand]: That's serious enough, isn't it?

ELYOT: No, no, it isn't. Death's very laughable, such a cunning little mystery. All done with mirrors.

AMANDA: Darling, I believe you're talking nonsense.

ELYOT: So is everyone else in the long run. Let's be superficial and pity the poor philosophers. Let's blow trumpets and squeakers, and enjoy the party as much as we can, like very small, quite idiotic school children. Let's savour the delight of the moment. Come and kiss me darling, before your body rots, and worms pop in and out of your eye sockets.

AMANDA: Elyot, worms don't pop.”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

“AMANDA: You're quite insufferable; I expect it's because you're drunk.

ELYOT: I'm not in the least drunk.

AMANDA: You always had a weak head.

ELYOT: I think I mentioned once before that I have only had three minute liqueur glasses of brandy the whole evening long. A child of two couldn't get drunk on that.

AMANDA: On the contrary, a child of two could get violently drunk on only one glass of brandy.

ELYOT: Very interesting. How about a child of four, and a child of six, and a child of nine?

AMANDA [turning her head away]: Oh do shut up.

ELYOT [witheringly]: We might get up a splendid little debate about that, you know, Intemperate Tots.”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives: An Intimate Comedy in Three Acts