Kitty Foyle (1940)
Kitty Foyle: Boy or Girl?
Dr. Mark Eisen: Boy. Almost lost the little fella. (Looks around the poor apartment) Mighta been better if he hadn't pulled through.
Kitty Foyle: Don't say that, Mark. It's always better to pull through.
Tom Foyle: From now on, you're going to Sunday School every Sunday. Rain or shine, you're going.
Kitty Foyle: But why, Pop?
Tom Foyle: Well, it'll be giving you a little Christian upbringing. A sense of values.
Kitty Foyle: Oh. And then you mean I won't ever sin or anything.
Tom Foyle: Well, it might not keep you from sinning, but by Judas Priest, it'll keep you from getting any fun out of it.
Wyn Strafford: Until you can get another job...
Kitty Foyle: What do you mean?
Wyn Strafford: Why don't I just keep you on the payroll? It's no more than fair -
Kitty Foyle: Just a minute, Wyn. You needn't worry about me. I'm free, white and 21... almost. And I'll go on loving you from here on out... or until I stop loving you. But nobody owes a thing to Kitty Foyle, except Kitty Foyle.
Kitty Foyle: Let's get a few things straight here! I didn't ask to marry a Strafford, a Strafford asked to marry me. I married a man, not an institution or a trust fund or a bank. Oh, I've got a fine picture of your family conference here. All the Straffords trying to figure out how to take the curse off of Kitty Foyle. Buy the girl a phony education, polish off the rough edges. And make a Mainline doll out of her! Aww, you oughta know better than that! It takes six generations to make a bunch of people like you. And by Judas Priest, I haven't got that much time.
Kitty Foyle: Pop, you might as well try to argue me out of a case of bronchitis. Because I love him.
Tom Foyle: Judas Priest.
Kitty Foyle: You said it.
Tom Foyle: You mean you want to marry him?
Kitty Foyle: Mm-hmm.
Tom Foyle: Has he ever asked you to meet his family?
Kitty Foyle: Well, I've never worried much about his family because I've always had a funny idea that I'm just as good as they are.
Kitty Foyle: Don't you worry about me, Pop. Because I can take care of myself all right. Good-bye, Pop. (Exits)
Tom Foyle: Take care of yourself. By Judas Priest, you're going to break your heart.
Kitty Foyle: Oh, you may have shut the door on Brother Wyn, but, Honey, you certainly had no intention of locking it.
Dr. Mark Eisen: You know the first thing I thought of when I saw you this afternoon?
Kitty Foyle: Yes.
Kitty Foyle: I thought we had a date tonight.
Dr. Mark Eisen: What do you think's been going here for the last three hours?
Kitty Foyle: Well, for one thing, I've slowly grown to hate you.
Mr. Kennett, Wyn's Uncle: But Miss Foyle, thou art not being quite reasonable about this.
Kitty Foyle: Says thou.
Mr. Kennett, Wyn's Uncle: Miss Foyle, thy temper!
Kitty Foyle: Mr. Kennet, thy foot!
Kitty Foyle: There's a lot of living to do in this world. And if you're worthwhile, you get hurt.
Kitty Foyle: [Speaking about children] This is what women want. It isn't men, not really. It's something down inside of them that's the future.
Wyn Strafford: As you know, it's a man's duty to instruct a woman in all subjects. Now you pick the subject.
Customer: [upon hearing the price of a perfume is $67 an ounce] Isn't that rather expensive?
Kitty Foyle: How else could we keep the wrong sort of person from wearing it?
Tom Foyle: [sarcastically] Ahh. There's a real piece of idiocy. Woman's instinct. Every snap-sightish woman in the world is a crystal gazer. She's magic. She can foretell the future. Like a politician.
Dr. Mark Eisen: [upon meeting Kitty's roommates in facial masks and hair curlers] I've seen better specimens in a glass jar.
Wyn Strafford: [after hearing a long speech about why they shouldn't marry, based on class differences] Is that all?
Kitty Foyle: Oh, we're both the same color, if that's what you mean.
Tom Foyle: Judas Priest, if ever a man deserved to be hung it's the fellow who started that Cinderella stuff. Writing claptrap stories about Cinderellas and princes, poisoning the minds of innocent children, putting crazy ideas into girls heads, making them dissatisfied with honest shoe clerks and bookkeepers. Why, they're the ruination of more girls than forty actors.