Have patience, Margaret, and trouble not thyself. Death comes for us all; even at our birth — even at our birth, death does but stand aside a little.… - Robert Bolt

More: I am faint when I think of the worst that they may do to me. But worse than that would be to go without you not understanding why I go.
Alice: I don't!
More: Alice, if you can tell me that you understand, I think I can make a good death, if I have to.
Alice: Your death's no "good" to me!
More: Alice, you must tell me that you understand!
Alice: I don't! I don't believe this had to happen.
More: If you say that, Alice, I don't know how I'm to face it.
Alice: It's the truth!
More: You're an honest woman.
Alice: Much good it may do me! I'll tell you what I'm afraid of: that when you're gone, I shall hate you for it.

Jailer: You understand my position, sir, there's nothing I can do; I'm a plain, simple man and just want to keep out of trouble.
More: Oh, Sweet Jesus! These plain, simple men!

Margaret: Haven't you done as much as God can reasonably want?
More: Well... finally... it isn't a matter of reason; finally it's a matter of love.
Alice: You're content, then, to be shut up here with mice and rats when you might be home with us!
More: Content? If they'd open a crack that wide I'd be through it. Well, has Eve run out of apples?
Margaret: I've not yet told you what the house is like, without you.
More: Don't, Meg.
Margaret: What we do in the evenings, now that you're not there.
More: Meg, have done!
Margaret: We sit in the dark because we've no candles. And we've no talk because we're wondering what they're doing to you here.
More: The King's more merciful than you. He doesn't use the rack.