—Tracy.
—What do you want?
—You're wonderful. There's a magnificence in you, Tracy.
—Now l'm getting self-conscious.
—lt's funny, l--
—Yeah?
—l don't know.
—Go up, l guess. lt's late.
—A magnificence that comes out of your eyes and your voice... in the way you stand there, in the way you walk. You're lit from within, Tracy. You've got fires banked down in you... hearth fires and holocausts!
—l don't seem to you made of bronze?
—No. You're made out of flesh and blood. That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl, Tracy... full of life and warmth and delight. What goes on? You got tears in your eyes.
—Shut up. Shut up.

Jimmy Stewart, tirándole los trastos con estilo a Katherine Hepburn
The Philadelphia Story