Tito: Hey, man, if this is torture, chain me to the wall.
Dodger: Absitively posolutely.
Georgette: Save me, save me Alonzo.
Tito: Hey, get off my back woman. I'm driving.
Dodger: All right, you guys. If Mr. Sykes don't see some cold, hard cash, we are Doberman chow.
Jenny: For the kitty, the house speciality: oeufs a la Jenny avec Cocoa Krispies.
Tito: Allow me to introduce myself: I am Ignacio Alonso Julio Federico de Tito.
Georgette: Get away from me, you little bug-eyed creep.
Dodger: You're all right, kid, for a cat. We'll keep a spot open in the gang for ya. Vice president, uptown chapter.
Tito: It's newspaper burritos for breakfast again, man.
Dodger: Whoa! Chill out, man. I don't eat cats. It's too much fur.
Roscoe: You know Rita, I can't figure out why you rather hang around a dump like this when you could be living uptown with a class act like myself.
Francis: My name is Francis. Fran-cis. Not Frank, not Frankie - Francis.
Fagin: My days are numbered, and the number is three.