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.
Ravelli: 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.
Capt. Spaulding: If I were a man, you'd resent that.
Capt. Spaulding: Why, you've got beauty, charm, money! You have got money, haven't you? Because if you haven't, we can quit right now.
Capt. Spaulding: Play that song about the Irish chiropodist.
Ravelli: Irish chiropodist?
Capt. Spaulding: "My Fate Is In Your Hands."
Capt. Spaulding: We three would make an ideal couple. Why you've got beauty, charm, money! You have got money, haven't you? Because if you haven't, we can quit right now.
Mrs. Whitehead: The captain is charming, isn't he?
Mrs. Rittenhouse: I'm fascinated.
Capt. Spaulding: I'm fascinated, too. Right on the arm.
Capt. Spaulding: I was outside the cabin smoking some meat. There wasn't a cigar store in the neighborhood.
Capt. Spaulding: A more dastardly crack I've ever heard! I wish I was back in the jungle where men are monkeys.
Grace Carpenter: Well, Sis, it looks as if we yield the social honor of the season to Mrs. Rittenhouse.
Mrs. Whitehead: Well, isn't there something we can do?
Grace Carpenter: We might shoot ourselves.
Mrs. Whitehead: I'd rather shoot Mrs. Rittenhouse.
Capt. Spaulding: Now, if we can find the left-handed person that painted this, we'll have "The Trial of Mary Dugan" with sound.
Ravelli: Well, I saw that.
Mrs. Rittenhouse: Captain, this leaves me speechless.
Capt. Spaulding: Well, see that you remain that way.
Capt. Spaulding: How much would you charge to run into an open manhole?
Ravelli: Just the cover charge.
Capt. Spaulding: Well, drop in sometime.
Ravelli: Sewer.
Capt. Spaulding: Well, we cleaned that up pretty well.
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?
Ravelli: Outside.
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.
