It was a night when London was ringed and stabbed with fire.

I've been immersed in it too long. My spirit is wobbly and my mind is confused. The hurt has become too great.

I try not to take any foolish chances, but there's just no way to play it completely safe and still do your job.

Our artillery... The Germans feared it almost more than anything we had.

[I]nstead of the usual "Why can't we make movies more like real life?" I think a more pertinent question is "Why can't real life be more like the movies?"

Someday when peace has returned to this odd world I want to come to London again and stand on a certain balcony on a moonlit night and look down upon the peaceful silver curve of the Thames with its dark bridges.

There is no sense in the struggle, but there is no choice but to struggle.