Helen Sinclair: Two martinis please, very dry.
David Shayne: How'd you know what I drank?
Helen Sinclair: Oh, you want one too? Three.
Olive: Why do you have to be so masso... masso.
David Shayne: Masochistic.
Olive: Masochistic? What the does that mean?
David Shayne: It means someone who enjoys pain.
Olive: Enjoys pain? What is she, retarded?
Olive: Don't tell me you still think the world revolves around.
Stage Manager: You.
Olive: ...you.
Venus: You better get in the mood, honey, 'cause he's payin' the rent.
Eden Brent: There you are. Mr. Purcell, you have been stealing our dog yummies and eating them.
Warner Purcell: Absolutely not. That's an outrageous suggestion.
Eden Brent: Then let me see in your pockets.
Warner Purcell: Would I eat dog food?
Eden Brent: You'd eat anything that didn't eat you first, you big fat pot of helium.
Helen Sinclair: Make love to me.
David Shayne: Here? Now?
Helen Sinclair: I see no reason to wait.
David Shayne: Jerome Kern is on the other side of the door.
Helen Sinclair: Yes, he's a wonderful composer. You'll have to meet him. Now hang up your pants.
Sheldon Flender: You, you, you're all missing the point, the point is I can give pleasure many times a day.
Rita: Oh, now, really Flender, what does quantity got to do with it?
Sheldon Flender: Quantity, quantity affects quality.
David Shayne: Says who?
Sheldon Flender: Karl Marx.
Rita: Oh, so now we're talking economics.
Sheldon Flender: Sex is economics.
David Shayne: I studied playwrighting with every teacher, I read every book.
Cheech: Let me tell you somethin' about teachers. I hate teachers. Those blue-haired bitches used to whack us with rulers. Forget teachers.
Sheldon Flender: Let's say there was a burning building and you could rush in and you could save only one thing: either the last known copy of Shakespeare's plays or some anonymous human being. What would you do?
David Shayne: Maybe Olive's got stage fright. Maybe she won't show.
Julian Marx: Not Olive. That dame doesn't have a nerve in her body. I don't think her spinal cord touches her brain.
Helen Sinclair: I'm still a star. I never play frumps or virgins.
David Shayne: You thought my first draft was c-cerebral and tepid?
Helen Sinclair: Only the plot and the dialogue. But this.
David Shayne: Was-was-was there nothing in the original draft that you feel was worth saving?
Helen Sinclair: The stage directions were lucid. Best I've ever seen... and the color of the binder. Good choice.
David Shayne: Thank you. I've always had a flair for stage directions.
Nick: Sorry you guys had to hear that. Some problems with the firm.
David Shayne: Really? What type of firm is it, Nick?
Nick: It's a "don't stick your nose in other people's business and it won't get broken" type of firm.
Helen Sinclair: No, no, don't speak. Don't speak. Please don't speak. Please don't speak. No. No. No. Go. Go, gentle Scorpio, go. Your Pisces wishes you every happy return.
David Shayne: Just one.
Helen Sinclair: Don't speak.
