Ravelli: Well, look. All you gotta do is open the door, step outside and there you are.
Capt. Spaulding: There you are? There you are, where?
Capt. Spaulding: Well, suppose you want to get back in again?
Ravelli: You had no right to go out.
Capt. Spaulding: I used to know a fellow who looked exactly like you by the name of Emanuel Ravelli. Are you his brother?
Ravelli: I am Emanuel Ravelli.
Capt. Spaulding: You're Emanuel Ravelli?
Ravelli: I am Emanuel Ravelli.
Capt. Spaulding: Well, no wonder you look like him. But I still insist there is a resemblance.
Ravelli: Heh, heh, he thinks I look alike.
Capt. Spaulding: Well, if you do, it's a tough break for both of you.
Capt. Spaulding: You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, which doesn't say much for you.
Capt. Spaulding: Would you mind going out and crossing the boulevard when the lights are against you.
Mrs. Rittenhouse: Capt. Spaulding, the guest of honor, will have the green duplex with the two baths.
Hives: Two, madame?
Mrs. Rittenhouse: Why, yes! I think the Capt. Would like two baths, don't you?
Hives: Well, if he's just returned from Africa, he may need two baths.
Ravelli: How 'bout playing some bridge? You play bridge?
Mrs. Rittenhouse: I play bridge a little.
Ravelli: What do you play for?
Mrs. Rittenhouse: Oh, we just play for small stakes.
Ravelli: And French fry potatoes?
Capt. Spaulding: Pardon me Mrs. Rittenhouse, did you lose a fish?
Capt. Spaulding: I can't understand what's delaying that coffee pot.
Roscoe Chandler: Listen, here. I have me a check for $5,000. Now, I give it to you. Here.
Ravelli: Hey, is it good?
Roscoe Chandler: Well, of course it is good. Who would give me a bad check?
Ravelli: I would.
Arabella Rittenhouse: Oh, Mr. Raviola.
Ravelli: Ravelli, Ravelli.
Arabella Rittenhouse: Oh, eh, Mr. Ravelli, I want you to do something for me.
Ravelli: Well, I tell ya Capt., you see, my idea of a house is something nice and a small and comfortable.
Capt. Spaulding: That's the way I feel about it. I don't want anything elaborate. Just a little place that I can call home and tell the wife I won't be there for dinner.
Capt. Spaulding: Oh, Hives! Hives! Where are you? Turn on the lights.
Capt. Spaulding: Mrs. Rittenhouse, did you lose that fish again?
Capt. Spaulding: Living with your folks... living with your folks... the beginning of the end... drab, dead yesterdays shutting out beautiful tomorrows... hideous, stumbling footsteps creaking along the misty corridors of time... and in those corridors I see figures... straaange figures... weeeird figures: Steel 186, Anaconda 74, American Can 138.
Capt. Spaulding: I'm sick of these conventional marriages. One woman and one man was good enough for your grandmother, but who wants to marry your grandmother? Nobody, not even your grandfather. Think! Think of the honeymoon! Strictly private. I wouldn't let another woman in on this. Well, maybe one or two. But, no men! I may not go myself.
Capt. Spaulding: Something has been throbbing within me. Oh, it's been beating like the incessant tom-tom in the primitive jungle. Something that I must ask you.
Mrs. Rittenhouse: What is it, Capt.?
Capt. Spaulding: Would you wash out a pair of socks for me?
Capt. Spaulding: Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Capt. Spaulding: Play the song about Montreal.
Capt. Spaulding: I'm a Dreamer, Montreal.
Capt. Spaulding: Do you mind if I don't smoke?
Capt. Spaulding: Tell me, what do you think of the traffic problem? What do you think of the marriage problem? What do you think of at night when you go to bed, you beast?
Capt. Spaulding: Say, how long has this been going on? Let's change the subject. Take the foreign situation. Take Abyssinia. I'll tell you, you take Abyssinia and I'll take a hot butterscotch sundae on rye bread.