Stella: When I married Miles, we were both a couple of maladjusted misfits. We are still maladjusted misfits, and we have loved every minute of it.
Lisa: Where does a man get inspiration to write a song like that?
Jeff: He gets it from the landlady once a month.
Lisa: I'm not much on rear window ethics.
Lisa: According to you, people should be born, live, and die in the same place.
Lt. Doyle: Oh, Jeff, if you need any more help, consult the yellow pages in your telephone directory.
Lisa: Oh, I love funny exit lines.
Lt. Doyle: Jeff, you've got a lot to learn about homicide. Why, morons have committed murders so shrewdly that it's taken a hundred trained police minds to catch them.
Lisa: Tell me exactly what you saw and what you think it means.
Jeff: What do you need as evidence? Bloody footprints leading up to his door?
Lt. Doyle: One thing I don't need is heckling. You called me and asked for help. Now you're behaving like a taxpayer.
Jeff: You know by tomorrow morning, there may not be any evidence left in that apartment, you know that?
Lt. Doyle: A detective's worst nightmare.
Jeff: Those two yellow zinnias at the end, they're shorter now. Now since when do flowers grow shorter over the course of two weeks? Something's buried there.
Lisa: Mrs. Thorwald.
Stella: You haven't spent much time around cemeteries, have you? Mr. Thorwald could hardly bury his wife's body in plot of ground about one foot square. Unless he put her in standing on end, in which case he wouldn't need the knives and saw.
Lisa: A woman never goes anywhere but the hospital without packing makeup, clothes, and jewelry.
Jeff: She's too perfect, she's too talented, she's too beautiful, she's too sophisticated, she's too everything but what I want.
Stella: Is, um, what you want something you can discuss?
Lisa: What's a logical explanation for a woman taking a trip with no luggage?
Jeff: That she didn't know she was going on a trip and where she was going she wouldn't need any luggage.
Jeff: She's like a queen bee with her pick of the drones.
Lisa: I'd say she's doing a woman's hardest job: juggling wolves.
Lisa: Did Lt. Doyle think I stole this purse?
Jeff: No, Lisa, I don't think he did.
Stella: He's gonna run out on her, the coward.
Jeff: Sometimes it's worse to stay than it is to run.
Jeff: She sure is the "eat, drink and be merry" girl.
Stella: Yeah, she'll wind up fat, alcoholic and miserable.
Lisa: How's your leg?
Jeff: Hurts a little.
Lisa: Your stomach?
Jeff: Empty as a football.
Lisa: And your love life?
Jeff: Not too active.
Lisa: Anything else bothering you?
Jeff: Uh-huh, who are you?
Stella: Maybe one day she'll find her happiness.
Jeff: Yeah, some man'll lose his.
Lisa: I wish I were creative.
Jeff: You are. You're great at creating difficult situations.
Lisa: Jeff, you know if someone came in here, they wouldn't believe what they'd see? You and me with long faces plunged into despair because we find out a man didn't kill his wife. We're two of the most frightening ghouls I've ever known.