Roger: Well… here we are again.
Roger: You recommend anything?
Eve: The brook trout. A little "trouty" but quite good.
Roger: Sold. "Brook... trout." (to steward) There you are.
Steward: Yes, sir.
Roger: I know. I look vaguely familiar.
Roger: You feel you've seen me somewhere before.
Eve: Hmm hmm.
Roger: I have that effect on people. It's something about my face.
Eve: It's a nice face.
Roger: You think so?
Eve: I wouldn't say it if I didn't.
Roger: Oh, you're that type.
Eve: What type?
Eve: Not really.
Roger: Good. Because honest women frighten me.
Roger: I don’t know. Somehow they seem to put me at a disadvantage.
Eve: Because you're not honest with them?
Eve: Like that business about the seven parking tickets?
Roger: What I mean is, the moment I meet an attractive woman, I... have to start pretending I've no desire to make love to her.
Eve: What makes you think you have to conceal it?
Roger: She might find the idea objectionable.
Eve: Then again, she might not.
Roger: Think how lucky I am to have been seated here.
Eve: Luck had nothing to do with it.
Eve: I tipped the steward $5 to seat you here if you should come in.
Roger: Is that a proposition?
Eve: I never discuss love on an empty stomach.
Roger: You've already eaten.
Eve: But you haven't.
Roger: Don't you think it's time we were introduced?
Eve: I'm Eve Kendall. I'm 26 and unmarried. Now you know everything.
Roger: Tell me, what do you do besides lure men to their doom on the 20th Century Limited?
Eve: I'm an industrial designer.
Roger: Jack Phillips. Western sales manager for Kingby Electronics.
Eve: No, you're not. You're Roger Thornhill of Madison Avenue and you're wanted for murder on every front page in America. Don't be so modest.
Eve: Don't worry. I won't say a word.
Roger: How come?
Eve: I told you. It's a nice face.
Roger: Is that the only reason?
Eve: It's going to be a long night.
Eve: I don't particularly like the book I've started.
Eve: You know what I mean?
Roger: Let me think. (pauses) Yes, I know exactly what you mean.
Eve pulls out a cigarette. Roger takes out matches to light it.
Roger: That's my trademark. R.O.T.
Eve: Roger O. Thornhill. What does the "O" stand for?
Roger: Nothing. (lights her cigarette) I'd invite you to my bedroom if I had a bedroom.
Eve: A roomette?
Roger: Nothing, not even a ticket. I've been playing hide-and-seek with the Pullman conductor ever since the train left New York.
Eve: How awkward for you.
Roger: Yes, isn't it? No place to sleep.
Eve: I have a large drawing room all to myself.
Roger: That doesn't seem quite fair, does it?
Eve: Drawing room E. Car 3901.
Roger: Such a nice number.
Eve: It's easy to remember.
Roger: No luggage.
Roger: You wouldn't happen to have an extra pair of pajamas, would you?
Eve: Wouldn't I? Incidentally, I wouldn't order any dessert if I were you.
Roger: I get the message.
Eve: That isn't exactly what I meant. This train seems to be making an unscheduled stop and I just saw two men get out of a police car as we pulled into the station. They weren't smiling.