I have to do this! And I will do it, and I don't need your permission to enlist! That same...

Robert Lincoln: I have to do this! And I will do it, and I don't need your permission to enlist! Abraham Lincoln: That same speech has been made by how many sons to how many fathers since this war began? 'I don't need your damn permission, you miserable old goat! I'm gonna enlist anyhow!' What wouldn't those numberless fathers have given to be able to say to their sons, as I say now to mine, I am commander-in-chief, so in point of fact, without my permission, you ain't enlisting in nothing, nowhere young man! Robert Lincoln: It's mama you're scared of, not me getting killed! Abraham Lincoln: [Lincoln slaps him, then tries to hug him; Robert pushes him away] Robert Lincoln: I have to do this. And I will, or I will feel ashamed of myself for the rest of my life. Whether or not you fought is what matters. And not just to other people, but to myself. I won't be you, Pa. I can't do that. But I don't want to be nothing.

I have to do this, and I will do it. And I don't need your permission to enlist. That same speech has been made by how many sons to how many fathers since the war began? "I don't need your damn permission," "you miserable old goat, I'm gonna enlist anyhow." And what wouldn't those numberless fathers have given to be able to say to their sons as I now say to mine, "I'm Commander in Chief." So, in point of fact, without my permission you ain't enlisting in nothing nowhere, young man. It's Mama you're scared of, it's not me getting killed. I have to do this! And I will! Or I will feel ashamed of myself for the rest of my life! Whether or not you fought is what's gonna matter, and not just to other people, but to myself! I won't be you, Pa, I can't do that, but I don't want to be nothing! I can't lose you. He'll be fine, Molly. City Point's a way back from the front lines and the fighting. He'll be an adjutant, running messages for General Grant. The war will take our son. A sniper, or a shrapnel shell, a typhus same as took Willie. It takes hundreds of boys a day. He'll die uselessly. And how will I ever forgive you? Most men, their firstborn is their favorite. You've always blamed Robert for being born. For trapping you in a marriage that's only ever given you grief - and caused you regret. - That's simply not true. And if the slaughter of Cold Harbor's on your hands same as Grant, God help us. We'll pay for the oceans of spilled blood you've sanctioned, the uncountable corpses! We'll be made to pay with our son's dear blood! Just this once, Mrs. Lincoln, I demand of you to try and take the liberal and not the selfish point of view. Robert will never forgive himself. You imagine he'll forgive us if we continue to stifle this very natural ambition? And if I refuse to take the high road? If I won't pick up the rough old cross, will you threaten me again with the madhouse? As you did when I couldn't stop crying over Willie. When I showed you what heartbreak, real heartbreak, looked like. And you hadn't the courage - to countenance, to help me! - That's right, that's right...