Margo: Nice speech, Eve. But I wouldn't worry too much about your heart. You can always put that award where your heart ought to be.
Birdie: There's a message from the bartender. Does Miss Channing know she ordered domestic gin by mistake?
Margo: The only thing I ordered by mistake is the guests. They're domestic, too, and they don't care what they drink as long as it burns.
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.
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.
Margo: Heaven help me. I love a psychotic.
Mrs. Van Schuyler: Shut up, Bowers. Just because you've got a grudge against her, or rather her father, no need to be uncivil.
Miss Bowers: Grudge? Melhuish Ridgeway ruined my family.
Mrs. Van Schuyler: Well, you should be grateful. If he hadn't, you would have missed out on the pleasure of working for me.
Miss Bowers: I could kill her on that score alone.
Mrs. Van Schuyler: You need a nice cool holiday, I was thinking of a trip along the Gobi Desert.
Mrs. Van Schuyler: You perfectly foul French upstart.
Hercule Poirot: Belgian upstart, please, madame.
Mrs. Van Schuyler: How would a little trip down the Nile suit you?
Miss Bowers: There is nothing I would dislike more. There are two things in the world I can't abide: it's heat and heathens.
Mrs. Van Schuyler: Good. Then we'll go. Bowers, pack.
Mrs. Van Schuyler: Come, Bowers, it's time to go, this place is beginning to resemble a mortuary.
Miss Bowers: Thank God you'll be in one yourself before too long you bloody old fossil.
Mrs. Van Schuyler: Well, rules are made to be broken. At least mine are. By me. (00:33:10)
Charlotte Vale: Don't ask for the moon when we have the stars.
Letha: It's a shame the way they raise kids today.
Mrs. Gerald Hayden: You have made it publicly obvious that you have only one concept of love... a vile and sinful one.
Valerie Hayden Miller: When you're dying of thirst, you drink from a mudhole.
Mrs. Gerald Hayden: You have devoted your life to mud and filth.
Valerie Hayden Miller: Only to get even with you.
Miranda Pierpoint: Call me mama.
