Mr. & Mrs. Smith (1941)
[trying to get into an old dress of hers]
Ann: I can't imagine anything hanging in the closet shrinking so much.
Mr. Harry Deever: I guess she's changed some huh?
[refering to David's wife]
David: Well, she's... changed a little.
Mr. Harry Deever: She once chased a dogcatcher half a mile with a baseball bat.
David: Well, she hasn't changed as much as you think.
David: I will never forget you in that little blue dress.
Ann: David, if you want your freedom, I don't want to be the kind of a wife who clings to her husband when she's not wanted.
David: Darling, I do want to be married to you. I love you. I worship you. I am used to you. How do we always get into these things?
Ann: If my only hold on you is that you're used to me?
David: Oh, darling, you've got the whole thing wrong. I don't know what I'd do without you. You are my little girl.
David: I'd give five bucks to see that cat take a sip of that soup.
Ann: Now, mother, don't worry. David will do all right by your little girl.
David: Either our noses have changed or they've - built a livery stable around here somewhere.
Ann: It's not exactly Chanel 5.
Proprietor Lucy's: Are you going to have a 45 cent or a 65 cent dinner?
Ann: Eat your soup dear.
David: There's something wrong with that soup.
Ann: It's your imagination.
David: Why doesn't the cat eat the soup?
Store Manager: Miss Krausheimer, we understood you were a single woman. As an aid to to the unemployment crisis, it is our policy not to employ married women.
David: If you are referring to New Year's Eve, I don't think that that drunk had any right to pick up your garter and wave it around.
Ann: It wasn't my garter. I showed you both of my garters.
David: That was after you'd gone into the ladies room and gotten Julie's garters.
Ann: They were my garters!
David: They were Julie's garters!
Ann: How do you know they were Julie's garters?
David: I know they weren't *your* garters.
David: Isn't it a little crowded in here? Couldn't we go someplace where it was - quieter? Maybe a little darker?
Gertie: No, cookie. We'll go to one of them dark, romantic places later. We're eatin' first. You ever been here?
David: Oh, yes, often. That's why I wanted to go some place that was darker.
Gertie: I don't get it.
Gloria: You know, I think Gertie's right. We should have ordered some chop suey.
Chuck Benson: What's a matter, baby? Don't cha like pheasant?
Gloria: No. I like some chop suey.
Chuck Benson: Just pour some ketchup on it. Hey, waiter, bring us some ketchup!
Jeff Custer: I envy you from the bottom of my heart. I wish I was in your shoes.
David: Yes, she's a great kid.
Mr. Harry Deever: Say, this is quite a city. Every night is Saturday.
David: Darling, I have a little secret to tell you.
Ann: Oh, it's about time. What is it dear?
David: You're a great kid.
Ann: You were going to wait until...
Ann: And then throw me aside like a squeezed lemon.
Ann: I've always had a suspicion about you. So did my mother. Your forehead slants back too much!
Harold - Taxi Driver: You ain't gonna catch her in anything. She's pretty foxy.
David: Oh, I don't know.
Harold - Taxi Driver: You know what we ought to do, you and me?
Harold - Taxi Driver: Let's go to a bur-le-que show. This dame ain't gonna to nothin' this afternoon.
David: In the afternoon is when you catch them.
Harold - Taxi Driver: You're kiddin'. That's funny.
David: What is?
Harold - Taxi Driver: Where does my wife go every afternoon?
Mrs. Custer: This is Mr. Smith, Jefferson's partner. Miss Ann Krausheimer.
Ann: We met some time ago.
David: Yes. We know one another very well.
Mrs. Custer: Oh, of course, you've probably seen a great deal of her.
David: Yes, I have! A great deal!
Mr. Ashley Custer: Any of your family from the South?
Ann: Well, no, not exactly. But, I had a relative in the Civil War who didn't fight at all. He was a slacker.
Mr. Ashley Custer: A great many Northerners saw it that way, ma'am, and I give them credit.
David: Let me tell you something. I know of no finer compliment that I could pay to any girl than to tell you this. That when a man has been sitting across the breakfast table from the same woman for three solid years and still wants to marry her; well, she's quite a girl.
Mr. Ashley Custer: What kind of white trash have you taken up now?
Jeff Custer: Now, father, I know it sounds very confusing.
Mr. Ashley Custer: I wasn't confused at all. What's he doing with a hot water bottle on her stomach?
Mrs. Custer: And sending his shorts to launder?
Mr. Ashley Custer: Three years breakfast?
Jeff Custer: Well, they had a very peculiar relationship.