Lloyd Richards: A Hollywood movie star just arrived.
Margo: Shucks, and I sent my autograph book to the cleaner.
Llyod Richards: I understand that your understudy, Miss Harrington, has given her notice.
Margo: Too bad.
Bill Sampson: I'm broken up about it.
Bill Sampson: You have every reason for happiness.
Margo: Except happiness.
Margo: She thinks only of me, doesn't she?
Birdie: Well, let's say she thinks only about you, anyway.
Margo: How do you mean that?
Birdie: I'll tell you how: like... like she's studying you, like you was a play or a book or a set of blueprints - how you walk, talk, eat, think, sleep.
Margo: I'm sure that's very flattering, Birdie. I'm sure there's nothing wrong with it.
Lloyd Richards: There are very few moments in life as good as this. Let's remember it. To each of us and all of us, never have we been more close, may we never be further apart.
Margo: I'll admit I may have seen better days, but I'm still not to be had for the price of a cocktail, like a salted peanut.
Lloyd Richards: I shall never understand the weird process by which a body with a voice suddenly fancies itself as a mind. Just when exactly does an actress decide they're HER words she's saying, and HER thoughts she's expressing?
Margo: Usually at the point where she has to rewrite and rethink them, to keep the audience from leaving the theatre.
Margo: I'll admit I may have seen better days, but I'm still not to be had for the price of a cocktail like a salted peanut.
Addison DeWitt: That I should want you at all, suddenly strikes me as the height of improbability. But that, in itself, is probably the reason. You're an improbable person, Eve, and so am I. We have that in common. Also, our contempt for humanity and inability to love, and be loved, insatiable ambition, and talent. We deserve each other.
Margo: Don't get up. And please stop acting as if I were the queen mother.
Eve: I'm sorry, I.
Addison DeWitt: We all come into this world with our little egos equipped with individual horns. If we don't blow them, who else will?
Addison DeWitt: And what's your name?
Phoebe: Phoebe.
Addison DeWitt: Phoebe?
Phoebe: I call myself Phoebe.
Addison DeWitt: And why not? Tell me, Phoebe, do you want someday to have an award like that of your own?
Phoebe: More than anything else in the world.
Addison DeWitt: Then you must ask Miss Harrington how to get one. Miss Harrington knows all about it.
Bill Sampson: We have to go to City Hall for the marriage license and blood test.
Margo: I'd marry you if it turned out you had no blood at all.
Addison DeWitt: We all have abnormalities in common. We're a breed apart from the rest of humanity, we theatre folk. We are the original displaced personalities.
Bill Sampson: You know, there isn't a playwright in the world who could make me believe this would happen between two adult people. Goodbye, Margo.
Margo: Bill? Where are you going? To find Eve?
Bill Sampson: That suddenly makes the whole thing believable.
Miss Casswell: Tell me this, do they have auditions for television?
Addison DeWitt: That's, uh, all television is, my dear, nothing but auditions.
Margo: Heaven help me. I love a psychotic.
Addison DeWitt: Why not read my column to pass the time? The minutes will fly like hours.
Answer: As I recall, and it's been some time since I've watched the movie, Karen was part of the plot to have Margo miss a performance so that Eve, Margo's understudy, would have an opportunity to perform the part, for which she received rave reviews. Karen and the others arranged to take a day trip out of town before the performance, and then get "stranded" so they couldn't get back to New York in time for Margo to perform in the play.
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