"No more words were spoken at the town meeting in the mission house. But it had been decided, they all felt, that the fugitive would be given two weeks. And they would all be able to look at themselves in the mirror and know that they had done what they could, indeed, and perhaps more than most people would have done."

"Surely we can offer her two weeks! And if after that time so much as one man cries out Be gone! — I promise I'll happily send her packing myself."

"The hours in the orchard were long now, for the harvest was underway. And Grace had long since given up arguing with Chuck's perception that respect for cultivation, harvest, and fruit could be directly measured in provision of carnality."

"Next day the weather changed. The fog came rolling down from the mountains. And although there were no sunsets to be seen, McKay thought it best that she sat by him anyway. She had sat by Jack McKay so many times now, but Jack had not got better at judging the distance between them. On the contrary, where fingers alone had previously brushed her young flesh, now it was a hand that remained in place throughout the allotted span."

"I came here with all these ideas and these stupid prejudices. He is not strong, Tom. He looks strong, but he's not."

"That evening Tom had sensed at once that something had taken place, but had to plead with Grace for ages before she finally broke down and unburdened herself."

"Please. Stop it. Please. Please don't. Please look at me. Look at me, talk to me. We're friends. You are my family, stop it."

"It wasn't me who wanted you here. You were far to beautiful and frail for this place. You tricked me into feeling that I meant something to you. It's your own damn fault I need your respect, Grace."

"God only knows what that woman’s capable of."

"Just as Dogville had done from its open, frail shelf on the mountainside, quite unprotected from any capricious storms, Grace, too, had laid herself open. And there she dangled from her frail stalk like the apple in the Garden of Eden. An apple so swollen that the juices almost ran. And once again the police had come to Dogville."

"Maybe I should go stand in the corner and be ashamed?"

"I don't care how much fun you think it would be. I'm not gonna spank you, Jason."

"I have been mean to the others too, even baby Achilles. And he's so tiny he can't put up a fight. It's not right... I got it coming to me, I know. I deserve a spanking."

"We have our whole lives ahead of us. The thing that I love about you is that you don't demand anything of me. That we can just be together."

"Tom: I do love you, Grace. Grace: I'm glad you love me. I love you, too. I really do."

"Grace: You can see through it all, can't you. I'll tell you, I'm gonna be asleep in two minutes. Tom: What if I don't want you to go to sleep? Grace: I don't think you have a choice tonight."

"I was just resting. Awful lot to do here in Dogville, considering nobody needs anything done. Jason wants to sit on my lap all the time."

"You've really been alone up here, haven't you? You haven't had anyone to comfort you and I should ask you for forgiveness... Still friends?"

"Grace: Don't be upset. I'm sorry if I doubted you. It won't happen again. I promise you. Chuck: I wouldn't make that promise if I was you. When you fended me off, a thought came into my mind that made me ashamed. A thought that you would hate me for."

"Vera wants me to picking apples from trees that are barely in the ground. Things take time. That's love, seeing what they need and respecting those needs. If anyone understands that, it's you. At least I thought so."

"Everybody was really against any changes to Grace's working conditions at all when the subject occasionally came up in conversation. Oh, Ben had declared in sympathy that he wouldn't accept any more work than before, and Grace was grateful for that, even if he was a bit drunk when he said so. Busy minutes became busy hours and busy hours became busy days, and irrespective of whether they thought the idea of increasing Grace's services had any fairness and justification to it or not, it didn't seem to make anyone any happier. More to the contrary."

"I hate it for you to see me like this. I can't bear that I'm doubting you. I'm sorry. Goodnight."

"I have to get some sleep. My days are gonna be much busier now."

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes. If I have to work harder, longer hours for less pay. Then I'm willing to do that, of course I am. I just wanna be sure that they wouldn't prefer that I left town."

"Tom: From a business perspective, from a business perspective, your presence in Dogville has become more costly. Because it's more dangerous for them to have you here — not that they don't want you — since they feel there should be some counterbalance, some quid pro quo. Grace: That sounds like words that the gangsters would use... Tom: There is also more of an incentive if you don't wanna stay. See, with all those wanted posters hanging around the place, I can hardly think of anywhere else you could hide."

"I think I should leave."

"Well, they couldn't really argue that anything had changed. But by not telling the police they felt they were committing a crime themselves."

"Grace was the same and so was the town. That the gangsters had fixed to have charges made against Grace in their efforts to neutralize her came as no surprise. But everything had changed a little yet again."

"We are proud to have you among us. And we thank you for showing us who you are. Here's to you, Grace. Stay with us as long as you damn please."

"I suppose I should be glad my suspects haven't been reduced any further."

"Are you saying that everybody in this town is like you?"

"She could have kept her vulnerability to herself, but she had elected to give herself up to him at random. As... Yes... a gift. "Generous, very generous", thought Tom."

"The beautiful fugitive's name was Grace. She hadn't chosen Dogville from a map or sought out the township for a visit, yet Tom felt right away that she belonged."

"Is there another way?"

"Hey Lady! I wouldn't go up there if I were you. I know the mountain well, I doubt if I'd get away with my life. It's a very nasty drop."

"Tom could have spent another half hour or more on the bench, but another unusual noise roused him. It was Moses barking. Oh, that wasn't unusual in itself, but it was the way he barked that was new. His barking was not loud, but more of a snarl, as if the danger was quite close at hand and not merely a passing raccoon or fox. As if the dog were standing face to face with a force to be taken seriously. ."

"It wasn't long before his thoughts were back on his favorite subjects again, and in the midst of the storm they metamorphosed into articles and novels and great gatherings that'd listen in silence to Tom after the publication of yet another volume that scourged and purged the human soul. And he saw men — and among them even other writers — throw their arms round one another as, through his words, life had opened up for them anew. It hadn't been easy. But by his diligence and application to narrative and drama his message had gotten through, and asked about his technique he would have to say but one word: "Illustration"."

"You think they're fine? I don't think so, I think there is a lot this country has forgotten. I just try and refresh folks memory by way of illustration."

"These are wicked times, Tom Edison. Soon there'll be folks by with even less than us."

"Jason gave that mutt a bone with meat on it? When did we last see meat? Next time you waste good food I'll take your knife away. Oughta known it was you giv'n meat to eat. Moses was meant to be hungry! To keep watch."

"Tom's father had been a doctor and now received a modest pension so it was no great disaster for Tom to drift about not doing anything in particular. Tom was a writer… at any rate by his own lights. Oh, his output as committed to paper was so far limited to the words "great" and "small", followed by a question mark, but nevertheless meticulously archived in one of his many bureau drawers... In order to postpone the time at which he would have to put pen to paper in earnest, Tom had now come up with a series of meetings on moral rearmament with which he felt obliged to benefit the town."

"Most of the buildings were pretty wretched; more like shacks; frankly. The house in which Tom lived was the best, though, and in good times might almost have passed for presentable."

"This is the sad tale of the township of Dogville. Dogville was in the Rocky Mountains in the US of A. Up here where the road came to its definitive end near the entrance to the old, abandoned silver mine. ."

"Frank Ling — rescue worker"

"John Rae — the porter"

"Wendy Thompson — Sister Carter"

"George Woodbridge — Detective Sergeant Hendricks"

"Ronald Adam — Dr. White"

"Henry Edwards — Mr. Purdy"