Tom Stoppard

You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die.

Goodbye, my love. A thousand times goodbye.

Like a sickness - and its cure, together.

Marlowe's touch was in my Titus Andronicus. And my Henry VI was a house built on his foundation.

He was not dead before.

Can you love a fool?

I'm done with theater. The playhouse is for dreamers. Look what the dream brought us.

Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move.

Love knows nothing of rank, or riverbank. It will spark between a Queen and the poor vagabond who plays the King - and their love should be minded by each, for love denied blights the soul we owe to God.

A broad river divides my lovers: family, duty, fate. As unchangeable as nature.

You see? The comsumptives plot against me. "Will Shakespeare has a play, let us go and cough through it."

I have a wife, yes, and I cannot marry the daughter of Sir Robert De Lesseps. You needed no wife come from Stratford to tell you that, and yet, you let me come to your bed.

It's as if my quill is broken... as if the organ of my imagination has dried up... as if the proud tower of my genius has collapsed.

Love knows nothing of rank or river bank.

Love denied blights the soul we owe to God.

It is not a comedy I'm writing now.

You still owe me for One Gentleman of Verona.

Words, words, words. Once I had the gift. I could make love out of words as a potter makes cups of clay. Love that overthrows empires. Love that binds two hearts together come hellfire and brimstone. For six pence a line, I could cause a riot in a nunnery. But, now?

Henslowe, you have no soul; so, how can you understand the emptiness that seeks a soulmate?

My story starts at sea, a perilous voyage to an unknown land. A shipwreck. The wild waters roar and heave. The brave vessel is dashed all to pieces. And all the helpless souls within her drowned. All save one. A lady. Whose soul is greater than the ocean, and her spirit stronger than the sea's embrace. Not for her a watery end, but a new life beginning on a stranger shore. It will be a love story. For she will be my heroine for all time. And her name will be Viola.

I like numbers, because with numbers, truth and beauty are the same thing.

Every day, our Typex machines have to be set the same way the Germans set their Enigmas. And figuring out the settings is the hard part. That's where the code breakers come in.

She'd need a crib. Let's say this tombstone was in code. If I knew more or less who's buried here, I'd have a pretty good idea what the code meant. You try to work out the settings and then type the coded message into the Enigma machine. If the message comes out nonsense, the settings are wrong. If it comes out "Mary Jane Hawkins," you've broken Enigma for that day.

The problem? The problem is the machine has a hundred and fifty million, million, million ways of doing it, according to how you set these three rotors, and how you connect these plugs. Press the same key any number of times, it'll always come out different.

No. No, no, no, this is the one we can break. Shark is enciphered on a special Enigma machine with a fourth rotor, designed especially for U-Boats - which gives it about four thousand million, *billion* starting positions. And, uh, we've never seen one.