Madhouse

The Bletchley Circle: San Francisco 1×4

Jean: Then do what we always did. Assemble the pieces we have, fill the space in between.

Lydia: He was sleeping with Charlotte down the road and the ife-way kicked him to the erb-kay.

Jean: The suburbs. Our new Western Front.

Millie: I thought we'd pay Detective Bryce a visit, make sure his head's screwed on properly.

Millie: Absolutely not!

Millie: You've just auctioned me off to the lowest bidder.

Marcus: You know, Vietnam is just an advisory committee. I'm training soldiers, their soldiers. It's not our war. I'll be back in a month...

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Det. Bryce: A man with at least three guns! What does that tell you?
Millie: He's a red-blooded American.

Bill: Why rule it out?
Millie: Mm... let's see. Three dates in, I'll meet your parents who find me stroppy, but soon realise you'll never do any better. Six months in, I've a ring on my finger. In three years, we'll flee to the suburbs with two brats and a third on the way, filling the space between us with powder-blue appliances and creeping silences. Anniversaries, we'll manage a clumsy dance, looking over our shoulders, wondering what hell just happened.

Jean: Oh, Hailey, this is delicious.
Hailey: Cioppino. Legendary in San Francisco. The secret is fresh basil.

Jean: It looks bloody cold!
Hailey: It's damn flippin' freezing, but after the numbness kicks in, it's quite pleasant. Come on! You only live once, Jean!

Jean: Happiness is not a constant state. To think that life is some perfect journey is a folly.

Lydia: I don't believe you don't want happiness.
Jean: I did once. I did. But now I seek purpose. And with purpose comes joy.

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