The Real Thing by Tom Stoppard

This thing here, which looks like a wooden club, is actually several pieces of particular wood cunningly put together in a certain way so that the whole thing is sprung, like a dance floor. it's for hitting cricket balls with. If you get it right, the cricket ball will travel two hundred yards in four seconds, and all you've done is give it a knock like knocking the top off a bottle of stout, and it makes a noise like a trout taking a fly. What we're trying to do is to write cricket bats, so that when we throw up an idea and give it a little knock, it might...travel.

• Henry, Act II, scene V

I don't want anyone else, but sometimes surprisingly, there's someone, not the prettiest, or the most available, but you know that in another life it would be her.  Or him, don't you find?  A small quickening.  The room responds slightly to being entered.  Like a raised blind.  Nothing intended, and a long way from doing anything, but you catch the glint of being someone else's possibility, and it's a sort of politeness to show you haven't missed it, so you push a little, well within safety, but there's that sense of a promise almost being made in the touching and kissing without which no one can seem to say good morning in this poncy business and one more touch would do it.  

• Henry, Act II, scene X