Robert: Of course, I can't quite get used to this age thing.
Sondra: I'm thirty.
Robert: Oh, you're gonna make life very simple. It's inconceivable.
Sondra: What?
Robert: All of it. Father Perrault and his magnificent history. This place hidden away from the rest of the world with its glorious concepts. And now you come along and confuse me entirely.
Sondra: Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I was to be the light. But why do I confuse you? Am I so strange?
Robert: Oh, on the contrary, you're not strange. And that, in itself, is confusing. I had the same idea about, about Shangri-La. A sense that I've been here before, that I belonged here.
Sondra: I'm so glad.
Robert: I can't quite explain it, but everything is somehow familiar. The very air I breathe, the Lamasery with its feet rooted in the good earth of this fertile valley while its head explores the eternal. All the beautiful things I see - these cherry blossoms, you. All are somehow familiar. I've been kidnapped and brought here against my will. A crime, a great crime, yet I accept it amiably, with the same warm amiability one tolerates only from a very dear and close friend. Why? Can you tell me why?
Sondra: Perhaps because you've always been a part of Shangri-La without knowing it.
Robert: I wonder.
Sondra: I'm sure of it, just as I'm sure there's a wish for Shangri-La in everyone's heart. I've never seen the outside world, but I understand there are millions and millions of people who are supposed to be mean and greedy. And I just know that secretly, they're all hoping to find a garden spot where there's peace, security, where there's beauty and comfort, where they wouldn't have to be mean and greedy. Oh, I just wish the whole world might come to this valley.
Robert: Then it wouldn't be a garden spot for long.
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