Rick: We'll always have Paris. We didn't have; we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.
Ilsa: When I said I would never leave you.
Rick: And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. (Ilsa cries.) Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.
Beatrice: I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me: if it had been painful, I would not have come.
Benedick: You take pleasure then in the message?
Beatrice: Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point ... You have no stomach, signior? Fare you well. (Exit.)
Benedick: Ha! 'Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner;' there's a double meaning in that...