George Llewelyn Davies: What have you written, Mr. Barrie? J.M. Barrie: Well, currently I make my living entertaining princes and their courts with my trained bear, Porthos. (motions to his dog) J.M. Barrie: If you command your brother Peter to join us I am willing, Prince George, to give you just such a performance, in exchange for the freedom of this prisoner, of course. George Llewelyn Davies: Very well. J.M. Barrie: Very well.
Sylvia Llewelyn Davies: (after James appears wearing an Indian headdress and face paint) James, we're just having some tea. You remember my mother, of course. J.M. Barrie: Yes, of course, how do you do? Sylvia Llewelyn Davies: (pauses) May I take your hat?
Michael Llewelyn Davies: Excuse me, sir, you're standing on my sleeve. J.M. Barrie: (moves his foot and looks down to face Michael) Am I? So sorry. I might point out you're lying under my bench.
George Llewelyn Davies: Excuse me, is he bothering you, sir? My brother can be an extremely irritating sort of person. J.M. Barrie: Ah, Prince George, I take it. And what precisely is um... (to Michael) J.M. Barrie: What did you say your name was? Michael Llewelyn Davies: Michael. J.M. Barrie: What precisely is Michael's crime? George Llewelyn Davies: He's my younger brother. J.M. Barrie: Ah, fair enough. Sorry lad, I cannot free you. Michael Llewelyn Davies: That's all right.
Charles Frohman: Twenty-five seats, given to orphans. Perfect. Now my nightmare is complete.
J.M. Barrie: (gives him a journal) Here you go.
Peter Llewelyn Davies: What's this?
J.M. Barrie: All great writers begin with a good leather binding and a respectable title. Open it.
Peter Llewelyn Davies: (reads) "The Boy Castaways: Being a record of the terrible adventures of the brothers Davies, faithfully set forth by Peter Llewelyn Davies."
J.M. Barrie: Kipling would swallow his own ear for a title like that!
Peter Llewelyn Davies: I still have no idea what to write.
J.M. Barrie: Write about anything. Write about your family, write about the talking whale!
Peter Llewelyn Davies: What whale?
J.M. Barrie: The one that's trapped in your imagination and desperate to get out.
Peter Llewelyn Davies: I'm not Peter Pan.
(points at J. M. Barrie)
Peter Llewelyn Davies: He is.
Theatre-goer: (regarding Peter, assuming he is one of the orphans at the play) Looks like we got one of the better dressed ones!
J.M. Barrie: (to the usher about the play) It's shite. Go, on. Say it. It's bulls... pizzle, Mr. Barrie.
Michael Llewelyn Davies: Excuse me, sir, you're standing on my sleeve.
J.M. Barrie: (moves his foot and looks down to face Michael) Am I? So sorry. I might point out you're lying under my bench.
Charles Frohman: You know what happened, James, they changed it.
J.M. Barrie: They changed what?
Charles Frohman: The critics, they made it important... hm, what's it called? What's it called?
J.M. Barrie: Play.
Charles Frohman: Play.
Smee: (backstage) I just want you to know, I think you're a wonderful dog.
Nana The Dog: Thanks.
J.M. Barrie: You needn't steal my journal to get to know me, Mary.
Mary Ansell Barrie: No, I suppose I could just go see the plays. I was hopelessly naive when I married you. I imagined that brilliant people disappeared to some secret place where good ideas floated around like leaves in autumn, and I hoped at least once you would take me there with you.
J.M. Barrie: There is no such place.
Mary Ansell Barrie: Yes there is: Neverland.
Mary Ansell Barrie: I'm tired of waiting, James. I'm tired of looking like a fool.
J.M. Barrie: Well I can't very well give up the play.
Mary Ansell Barrie: No. Just... come home to me at the end of the day. No more trips to the country, no more long evenings in the park. If you can't give us that much of a chance... Then we must end this... and I will.
Charles Frohman: (talking about plans for Peter Pan) ... And you have a pirate ship on stage, surrounded by tons and tons of water, James, that's a lot of water.
J.M. Barrie: It's a lot of water?
Charles Frohman: Yes, and that's a lot of money.