Sabrina (1954)

Thomas Fairchild: I like to think of life as a limousine. Though we are all riding together, we must remember our places. There's a front seat and a back seat and a window in between.
Linus Larrabee: Fairchild, I never realised it before, but you're a terrible snob.
Thomas Fairchild: Yes, sir.

Sabrina Fairchild: Goodnight, Mr. Larrabee. I'm sorry I can't stay to do the dishes.

Oliver Larrabee: I can never remember that garage girl's name.
Linus Larrabee: Sabrina.
Oliver Larrabee: Sabrina! What right has a chauffeur got to call his daughter Sabrina?
Linus Larrabee: What would you suggest... Ethel?

Baron St. Fontanel: A woman happily in love, she burns the soufflé. A woman unhappily in love, she forgets to turn on the oven.

Thomas Fairchild: Democracy can be a wickedly unfair thing, Sabrina. Nobody poor was ever called democratic for marrying somebody rich.

Sabrina Fairchild: Just imagine, you press a button and factories go up, or you pick up a telephone and a hundred tankers set out for Persia, or you switch on the dictaphone and say, "Buy all of Cleveland and move it to Pittsburgh."

Linus Larrabee: I always make it a point to have controls.
Mr. Tyson: Yes, it's your good luck the kids are so fond of each other.
Linus Larrabee: I always make it a point to be lucky, too.

Oliver Larrabee: Now, I'm not saying that all Larrabees have been saints. There was a Thomas Larrabee who was hung for piracy, and there was a Benjamin Larrabee who was a slave trader, and there was my great-great uncle, Joshua Larrabee, who was shot in Indiana while attempting to rob a train, but there never was a Larrabee who behaved as David Larrabee has behaved here tonight.
David Larrabee: And exactly what have I done?

Linus Larrabee: I wish I were dead with my back broken.

Thomas Fairchild: It wouldn't have worked out really, darling. The papers and everybody else would've said how fine and democratic for a Larrabee to marry a chauffeur's daughter, but would they praise the chauffeur's daughter? No. Democracy can be a wickedly unfair thing, Sabrina. Nobody poor was ever called democratic for marrying somebody rich.

David Larrabee: You don't live here.
Sabrina: Yes, I do.
David Larrabee: I live here.
Sabrina: Hi, neighbor.

Linus Larrabee: If you love her, take her. This is the 20th century.
Oliver Larrabee: The 20th century? I could pick a century out of a hat, blindfolded, and get a better one.

Oliver Larrabee: Seems to me there ought to be a less extravagant way of getting a chauffeur's daughter out of one's hair.
Linus Larrabee: How would you do it? You can't even get a little olive out of a jar.

Sabrina Fairchild: I hate girls that giggle all the time.
Thomas Fairchild: You hate every girl David looks at.

Linus Larrabee: Look at me. Joe College with a touch of arthritis.

Thomas Fairchild: He's still David Larrabee, and you're still the chauffeur's daughter, and you're still reaching for the moon.
Sabrina Fairchild: No, father. The moon's reaching for ME.

Thomas Fairchild: May I ask, sir, what exactly are your intentions?
Linus Larrabee: My intentions? Unethical, reprehensible but very practical.
Thomas Fairchild: I beg your pardon?