Life for a pair of veteran actors gets turned upside down after they meet a brash teenager.

Maurice: This other man, the other man who loved you, was he not kind to you?
Jessie: He was kind, for a time. He promised me things. He bought me stuff. We had champagne and there were roses.
Maurice: Then you got pregnant.
Jessie: Does everyone know?
Maurice: It's happened to girls before.
Jessie: Then... then he stopped being kind. He went the other way. A long way that way. He were engaged. I didn't know. It wasn't a miscarriage. My mum called it that. It were an abortion. And she made me.
Maurice: Terrible.
Jessie: Yeah. Yeah.
Maurice: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer's lease hath all too short a date: sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, and often is his gold completion dimm'd, and every fair from fair sometime declines, by chance, or nature's changing course untrimm'd, but thy eternal summer shall not fade, nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade, when in eternal lines to time thou grow'st, so long as men can breathe, and eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee."
Maurice: [Maurice is clipping Ian's toenail] Keep still. It's not surgery.
Ian: I don't trust you.
Maurice: [clips the nail] Got it! A palpable hit!
Ian: But where has the little fucker gone?
Maurice: Who cares? It's free now.
Ian: I can't have my home scattered with toenails.
Maurice: Oh, God. I'll have to get my other glasses.
Ian: They're around your fucking neck.
Maurice: Oh. Thank you.
[puts glasses on, begins to search]
Maurice: Where's that bastard toenail? Ha! There's the little fucker!
[stroking her hand]
Maurice: May I ask you - have you ever been in love before?
[Jesse smiles embarrassedly, but glowingly]
Maurice: It's a really important role. The lynchpin of the story. Yep. It's ALSO a speaking part.
Maurice: Venus. You look like a movie star.
[kisses her neck]
Maurice: Is there an old man odor?
Jessie: Not so much this evening.
Maurice: I wonder why.
Jessie: You can kiss my shoulders.
Maurice: Can I?
Jessie: Three kisses. Three, I said! And no licking and burping, you dirty, filthy, little shithead.
Maurice: [chuckles] Oh, you please me.
Jessie: And you me.
[he fondles her breasts; she hesitates, then punches him in the groin]
Maurice: Steady! Steady! I'm just out of intensive care.
Jessie: You ask for it, Maurice. You know you do, with your forwardness. Do you believe in anything, Maurice?
Maurice: Pleasure, I like. I've tried to give pleasure. That's all I'd recommend to anyone.
Jessie: You've made me sticky with your slug tongue. I think I'll have a bath.
Maurice: Well, well. I think I'll run it for you.
Maurice: My dear, would you pass me my trousers?
Jessie: What is that?
Maurice: A catheter.
Jessie: Oh, my God!
Maurice: I think it's leaking.
Jessie: I don't want it on my shoes! You're always dripping, Maurice.
Maurice: Oh, hold on.
Jessie: There's always bits of you where there shouldn't be!
Ian: Do I look like a fool? Do I?
Ian: Answer me!
Maurice: Don't tempt me. I haven't had my tranquilizer yet.
Maurice: I'm impotent, of course, but I can still take theoretical interest.
Jessie: Have you been thinking about me?
Maurice: All the time I was in the hospital.
Jessie: What do you think about me?
Maurice: Your hair, your feet, your legs, your behind, your eyes...
Jessie: My eyes?
Maurice: [dreamily, reverentially] Your elbows... your cunt...
Jessie: Oh shut up...
[long pause]
Jessie: You can touch my hand.
Jessie: I haven't got anything to wear.
Maurice: I can't think of anything more enraging, my dear.
Jessie: [after their fight] Why didn't you tell me you were having an operation?
Maurice: I didn't want to cheer you up.
Ian: Her idea of cooking is to stick a plate of virtual sick in the microwave!
Maurice: I will die soon, Venus. Can I touch your hand?
Jessie: That's one chat-up line I haven't heard.
Maurice: I'm impotent, of course.
Jessie: Thank Christ.
Maurice: But I can still take a theoretical interest.
Jessie: Have you been thinking about me?
Maurice: All the time I was in hospital.
Jessie: What did you think about me?
Maurice: I saw your body.
Jessie: Which part?
Maurice: Your hair. Your feet. Your legs, your behind, your eyes.
Jessie: My eyes?
Maurice: Your elbows. Your cunt.
Jessie: Oh, shut up. You can touch my hand.
[he kisses her hand]
Jessie: Only with your fingers. Anything else will make me vomitous.
Maurice: Can I ask you, have you ever been in love before?
[she smiles]
Ian: How's Valerie?
Maurice: Phoning my continuously with complaints.
Ian: You're her husband.
Maurice: Am I?
Ian: Yeah. You did one of your runners, if you remember.
Maurice: Did I? But I never wanted to be independent.
Ian: I love it.
Maurice: I am about to die and I know nothing about myself.
Ian: You have been loved, though, Maurice. You've been adored.
Maurice: Yes. And so have you, Ian, a little bit. Except you didn't always notice it.
Maurice: [last words] Now we can really talk!
Maurice: No, you can't cling to me like this, Ian, we'll both go down.
Ian: Put me on my feet then, you silly old fool!
Maurice: You're on your feet.
Ian: Oh. Yeah. Well. Thank you.
Maurice: Not at all.
[they begin dancing]
Maurice: You were a good mother. I rather left you holding the baby, didn't I?
Valerie: You did do that. Three children under six, to be exact.
Maurice: I can see it must have been inconvenient.
Valerie: That you put your own pleasure first?
Maurice: I did love you. For a time. And for the rest of the time, I was fond of you.
Valerie: Please, no. No, don't
Maurice: More than fond of you.
Valerie: You don't have to. I don't want it.
Maurice: It's my goodbye to you.
Valerie: Why, where are you going?
Maurice: [chuckles] We won't live forever.
Valerie: No.
[kisses his head; they kiss]
Maurice: For most men, a woman's body is the most beautiful thing they will ever see.
Jessie: What's the most beautiful thing a girl sees? Do you know?
Maurice: Her first child.
Donald: [Maurice and Ian are hitting at each other during a fight] What is this, catheters at dawn?
Donald: What is this, catheters at dawn?
Ian: I love this horrible place. It reminds me of what I wanted to become.
Valerie: When you die, everyone wants to be your friend.

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