Gertrude Biggley:
What's nepotism?
J. B. Biggley:
That's when your nephew's a damn poop!
Miss Jones:
What's your name?
J. Pierpont Finch:
Finch, F-I-N-C-H. J. Pierpont Finch.
Miss Jones:
Well, why haven't I seen you before?
J. Pierpont Finch:
Well, ma'am, I'm not supposed to deliver the executive mail. That's his job. Bud Frump, F-R-U-M-P.
J. B. Biggley:
I know blood is thicker than water, but Bud Frump is thicker than anything.
J. B. Biggley:
I like the way you thinch, Fink.
[
Long pause]
J. Pierpont Finch:
That's "think, Finch."
Hedy LaRue:
I have nothing to hide!
Rosemary:
Yes you do, and you keep it hidden!
[
There is music when Finch thinks of Rosemary]
J. Pierpont Finch:
Can't you hear it? It's all around me, it's like a beautiful pink sky.
Rosemary:
J. Pierpont Finch, what are you ...
J. Pierpont Finch:
Rosemary, darling, will you please marry J. Pierpont Finch?
Rosemary:
NOW I hear it.
J. Pierpont Finch:
Just remember, Wally, we're all brothers.
J. B. Biggley:
Some of us are uncles.
J. Pierpont Finch:
Be patient? Don't you realize I've been working here... well, two whole hours now?
J. Pierpont Finch:
What are you taking that down in?
Hedy LaRue:
Long hand. It's safer. I make up for it when I type.
J. Pierpont Finch:
Oh, you type fast.
Hedy LaRue:
Like a jack rabbit - 12 words a minute.
Rosemary:
Lunch.
J. Pierpont Finch:
Huh?
Rosemary:
I said, "Lunch."
J. Pierpont Finch:
What about "lunch"?
Rosemary:
I'd love to!
[
Song lyrics]
Smitty:
Now she's thinking:
Rosemary:
I wish that he were more of a flirt.
Smitty:
And he's thinking:
J. Pierpont Finch:
I guess a little flirting won't hurt.
Smitty:
Now she's thinking:
Rosemary:
For dinner we could meet.
Smitty:
And he's thinking:
J. Pierpont Finch:
We both've gotta eat.
Smitty:
And she says:
Rosemary:
[
Sneezes]
Smitty:
And he says:
J. Pierpont Finch:
Gesundheit... well, it's been a long day.
Mr. Twimble:
Last month I became a quarter-of-a-century man.
J. Pierpont Finch:
Oh, that's beautiful, a quarter-of-a-century.
Mr. Twimble:
Quarter-of-a-century.
J. Pierpont Finch:
How long have you been in the mail room?
Mr. Twimble:
Twenty-five years. It's not easy to get this medal. It takes a combination of skill, diplomacy, and bold caution.
Mr. Gatch:
Rosemary, seeing you always brightens my day. (He tries to kiss her)
Rosemary:
Mr. Gatch!
Mr. Gatch:
I'm gonna have to stop reading "Playboy."
J. B. Biggley:
I realize that I'm the president of this company, the man that's responsible for everything that goes on here. So, I want to state, right now, that anything that happened is not my fault.
J. Pierpont Finch:
I feel sorry for men who don't knit, they lead empty lives.
J. Pierpont Finch:
An emotional involvement can only lead to getting involved... emotionally.
J. Pierpont Finch:
This is the secret ingredient: it can't miss, I'm combining greed with sex.
Hedy LaRue:
A secretary was ordered to be assigned to you. I'm your assignation.
Miss Jones:
Your wife is on line 2, Mr. Biggley.
J. B. Biggley:
Tell her I'm busy, tell her I'm in a meeting, tell her I'm out, damnit, put her on!
Hedy LaRue:
It is a far, far better thing I do than I have ever did before.
TV Announcer:
A day without a wicket is like a day without sunshine.
J. Pierpont Finch:
Mediocrity is not a mortal sin.
J. Pierpont Finch:
[
Twimble is singing the praises of the company] The company restaurant?
Mr. Twimble:
Every day, same lunch. The haddock sandwich, it's delicious!
J. Pierpont Finch:
[
Unimpressed] I must try it.
Mr. Twimble:
[
a warning] Early in the week.
J. B. Biggley:
Do you know who I am?
J. Pierpont Finch:
No, sir.
J. B. Biggley:
I'm J. B. Biggley, the President of this company, that's who I am. In fact, that's who the hell I am.
Bud Frump:
Are you ambitious, Finch?
J. Pierpont Finch:
No, not necessarily.
Bud Frump:
Good. You just keep that in mind. If you just remember who I am and who you are, we'll get along fine. If not ...
Rosemary:
You go crying to your uncle!
Bud Frump:
I beg your pardon, I do not go crying to my uncle! It just happens my mother is Mrs. Biggley's sister. If I feel something's wrong, I phone my mother. She phones Mrs. Biggley, and Mrs. Biggley phones Mr. Biggley. That's the DEMOCRATIC way.
Related Links
*
