Captain of Mohican: Mr Haverstock, I want a talk with you. Johnny Jones (Huntley Haverstock) : Yes sir? Captain of Mohican: I just found out you're a newspaperman. Johnny Jones: I guess that's right. Captain of Mohican: Oh, it is, eh? Why didn't you tell me that when I questioned you? You lied to me, sir! Johnny Jones: My dear captain, when you've been shot down in a British plane by a German destroyer, 300 miles off the coast of England (latitude 45) , and have been hanging on to a half-submerged wing for hours, waiting to drown, with half a dozen other stricken human beings, you're liable to forget you're a newspaperman for a moment or two!
Johnny Jones: I'm in love with a girl, and I'm going to help hang her father.
Johnny Jones: I'm in love with you, and I want to marry you. Carol Fisher: I'm in love with you, and I want to marry you. Johnny Jones: Hmm... that cuts down our love scene quite a bit, doesn't it?
Johnny Jones: I came 4,000 miles to get a story. I get shot at like a duck in a shooting gallery, I get pushed off buildings, I *get* the story, and then I've got to shut up!
(Radio broadcast from London) Johnny Jones: Hello, America. I've been watching a part of the world being blown to pieces. A part of the world as nice as Vermont, and Ohio (siren sounds) , and Virginia, and California, and Illinois lies ripped up and bleeding like a steer in a slaughterhouse, and I've seen things that make the history of the savages read like Pollyanna legends. I've seen women - (bombs begin exploding) English Announcer: It's a raid; we shall have to postpone the broadcast. Johnny Jones: Oh, postpone, nothing! Let's go on as long as we can. English Announcer: Madam, we have a shelter downstairs. Johnny Jones: How about it, Carol? Carol Fisher: They're listening in America, Johnny. Johnny Jones: Okay, we'll tell 'em, then. I can't read the rest of the speech I had, because the lights have gone out, so I'll just have to talk off the cuff. All that noise you hear isn't static - it's death, coming to London. Yes, they're coming here now. You can hear the bombs falling on the streets and the homes. Don't tune me out, hang on a while - this is a big story, and you're part of it. It's too late to do anything here now except stand in the dark and let them come... as if the lights were all out everywhere, except in America. Keep those lights burning, cover them with steel, ring them with guns, build a canopy of battleships and bombing planes around them. Hello, America, hang on to your lights: they're the only lights left in the world!
Carol Fisher: I think the world has been run long enough by well-meaning professionals. We might give the amateurs a chance now.
John Jones: If you knew how much I love you, you'd faint.