A Canterbury Tale
1944
(Lost in a heavily bombed Canterbury.) Passer-by: It is an awful mess, I don't blame you for not knowing where you are. But you get a very good view of the Cathedral now.
Thomas Colpeper, JP: There is more that one way of getting close to your ancestors. Follow the Old Road and as you do, think of them; they climbed Chillingbourne Hill just as you did. They sweated and paused for breath just as you did today. And when you see the bluebells in the spring and the wild thyme, and the broom and the heather, you're seeing what their eyes saw. You ford the same rivers, the same birds singing. And when you lie flat on your back and rest, and watch the clouds sailing as I often do, you're so close to those other people, that you can hear the thrumming of the hoofs of their horses, and the sound of the wheels on the road, and their laughter, and talk, and the music of the instruments they carried. And they turned the bend in the road, where they too saw the towers of Canterbury. I feel I have only to turn my head to see them on the road behind me.
Thomas Colpeper, JP: Pity. Bob Johnson: Pity? Thomas Colpeper, JP: Pity when you get home and people ask what you've seen in England and you say "Well I saw a movie in Salisbury. And I made a pilgrimage to Canterbury and I saw another one." Bob Johnson: (laughs) You've got me all wrong. I know that in Canterbury I have to look out for a cathedral. Thomas Colpeper, JP: Yes do look out for it. It's just behind the movie theatre. You can't miss it.
Alison Smith: Did you hear the news about last night Mr Horton? Jim Horton: There wasn't nothing on the wireless. Alison Smith: No I didn't mean that sort of news. I meant what happened here last night. Ned Horton: We get all our local news at 6 o'clock, Miss. Bob Johnson: You got a local newspaper? Ned Horton: No. That's when the pub opens.
Prudence Honeywood: That's your room. You won't get much of a view I'm afraid. Alison Smith: You should have seen the view from my room in London. Prudence Honeywood: Was it a long street with every house a different sort of sadness in it? Alison Smith: It was a long row of back gardens, and the tall, sad houses were all the same. Prudence Honeywood: Ghastly in winter. Alison Smith: Airless in summer. You seem to know them. Prudence Honeywood: The only man who ever asked me to marry him wanted me to live in a house like that. I'm still a maid.