The AristoCats (1970)
Marie: Me first! Me first!
Toulouse the Orange Kitten: Why should you be first?
Marie: Because I'm a lady. That's why.
Toulouse the Orange Kitten: Oh, you're not a lady.
Berlioz the Kitten: You're nothing but a sister!
Napoleon: Lafayette! Lafayette, listen.
Lafayette: Oh, shucks, Napoleon. That ain't nothin' more but a little ol' cricket bug.
Napoleon: It's squeaky shoes approachin'.
Lafayette: Oh, cricket bugs don't wear shoes.
Napoleon: Hush your mouth! Let's see. They're Oxford shoes, size nine and a half. Hole in the left sole, it sounds like.
Lafayette: What color are they?
Napoleon: Why, they're black... Ah, now how would I know that?
Napoleon: It's a motorcycle. Two cylinder. Chain drive. One squeaky wheel, on the front, it sounds like. Now you go for the tires, and I'll go right for the seat of the problem.
Lafayette: How come you always grab the tender part for yourself?
Napoleon: 'Cause I outrank you, that's why. Now, stop beatin' your gums and sound the attack.
Napoleon: No, that's mess call.
Lafayette: Made a mess of it, huh?
Napoleon: You can be replaced, you know.
Thomas O'Malley: Why, your eyes are like sapphires sparkling so bright. They make the morning radiant and light.
Marie: How romantic.
Berlioz the Kitten: Sissy stuff.
Duchess: Oh, c'est très jolie, monsieur. Very poetic. But it is not quite Shakespeare.
Thomas O'Malley: 'Course not. That's pure O'Malley, baby. Right off the cuff. Yeah. I got a million of 'em.
Abigail Gabble: Your husband is very charming and very handsome.
Thomas O'Malley: Well, you see, I'm not exactly her husband.
Amelia Gabble: Exactly? Either you are or you're not.
Thomas O'Malley: All right. I'm not.
Amelia Gabble: He's scandalous.
Abigail Gabble: Indeed
Amelia Gabble: He's absolutely positively a reprobate.
Abigail Gabble: A roue.
Amelia Gabble: His eyes are too close together.
Abigail Gabble: Very shifty, too.
Amelia Gabble: And look at his crooked smile!
Abigail Gabble: His chin is very weak, too.
Amelia Gabble: Obviously a philanderer who triffles with unsuspecting women's hearts.
Marie: How romantic.
Thomas O'Malley: You know something? I like Uncle Waldo.
Duchess: [laughs] Especially when he's marinated.
Lafayette: Okay, let's charge!
Napoleon: Wait a minute. I'm the leader! I'm the one that says when we go.
Napoleon: Here we go. Charge!
Uncle Waldo: It's outrageous! Why, you won't believe what they tried to do to your poor Uncle Waldo. Look! Look at this!
[reading from menu of Le Petit Cafe]
Uncle Waldo: "Prime Country Goose A la Provencale, stuffed with chestnuts"...? "And basted in white wine." Hic!
Thomas O'Malley: Basted? He's been marinated in it.
Uncle Waldo: Dreadful! Being British, I would've preferred sherry.
Scat Cat: [singing] Everybody wants to be a cat / Because a cat's the only cat who knows where it's at.
Thomas O'Malley: Tell me! Everyone is picking up on that feline beat / 'Cause everything else is obsolete.
Scat Cat: Strictly high-buttoned shoes.
Scat Cat: What's a little swinger like you doing on our side of town?
Roquefort the Mouse: Please! I was sent for help, by a cat.
Scat Cat: Why that's outrageous! It's crazy!
Roquefort the Mouse: But honest! He said just to mention his name.
Russian Cat: So, start mentioning name, rodent.
Roquefort the Mouse: Now, don't rush me, fellas. His name is... O'Toole.
Scat Cat: I don't dig him. Strike one.
Roquefort the Mouse: O'Brian?
Scat Cat: Strike two.
Roquefort the Mouse: You believe me, don't you?
English Cat: Keep guessing, Mousey.
Roquefort the Mouse: What was it? O'... Grady?
Scat Cat: Mousey, you've just struck out. Any last words?
Roquefort the Mouse: Oh, why did I ever listen to that O'Malley cat?
Scat Cat: O'Malley? Hold it, guys! This little guy's on the level!
Lafayette: Hey, Napoleon. That sounds like the end.
Napoleon: Wait a minute. I'm the leader, I say when it's the end.
[the title "The End" bumps into Napoleon's head]
Napoleon: It's the end.
[Edgar is listening in on Madame discussing her will]
Madame Adelaide Bonfamille: As you know, I have no living relatives, and I want my cats to be well taken care of. And who can do that better than my faithful servant, Edgar?
Georges Hautecourt: Edgar? Adelaide, you mean you're giving your vast fortune to Edgar?All your stocks and bonds, this-this mansion, your country chateau, your jewels and gems...?
Madame Adelaide Bonfamille: No, no, no, George. To my cats.
Georges Hautecourt: To your cats?
Edgar: [gasping] Cats?
Madame Adelaide Bonfamille: Yes. I just wish for the cats to inherit first. Then at the end of their life span, the entire estate reverts to Edgar.
Edgar: Cats inherit first, and I come after the cats! After I... oh. It's not fair!
[Stands up, hits head on intercom]
Edgar: Ooh! I mean, each cat will live about twelve years, I can't wait... and each cat has nine lives! That's four times twelve, times nine... No, it's less than that. Anyway, that's more than I'll ever live. I'll be gone! No, oh, no. They'll be gone. I'll think of a way. After all, there are millions of reasons why I should. All of them dollars. Millions. Those cats have got to go!
Napoleon: [listening] You're not gonna believe this, but it's a one wheel hay stack!
Chinese Cat: Shang-hai Hong Kong egg fu yung! Fortune cookie always wrong!
[Berlioz has been scared by a frog]
Duchess: Oh, darling. That's only a little frog, my love.
Berlioz the Kitten: But he had a mouth like a "hippolotamus."
Duchess: Thomas, this is Amelia and Abigail Gabble.
Thomas O'Malley: Yeah, honey. Get those two web-footed lifeguards out of here.
Duchess: Now, now, Thomas.
Thomas O'Malley: Okay. Okay, baby.
[to the geese]
Thomas O'Malley: Hiya, chicks.
[Abigail and Amelia Gabble laugh]
Abigail Gabble: We're not chickens. We're geese.
Thomas O'Malley: [sarcastically] No. I thought you were swans.
Georges Hautecourt: Come on, Edgar. Last one upstairs is a nincompoop.
Edgar: Could we take the elevator this time, sir?
Georges Hautecourt: That birdcage? Poppycock! Elevators are for old people. Whoops!
[Hautecourt almost falls back, Edgar catches him]
Edgar: May I give you a hand, sir?
Georges Hautecourt: You wouldn't have an extra foot, would you, Edgar?
Abigail Gabble: Amelia, if I walk any further, I'll get flat feet.
Amelia Gabble: Abigail, we were born with flat feet.
Thomas O'Malley: That's quite a family. Come to think of it, O'Malley, you're not a cat, you're a rat. Right? Right.
Georges Hautecourt: [Trips and almost falls] Whoops! Not as spry as I was when I was eighty.
Marie: [Sitting on the piano] I'm ready, Maestro.
[Berlioz slides on the keys, and Marie's tail is pinched]
Marie: Ow! Mama, he did it again!
Berlioz the Kitten: Tattletale.
Thomas O'Malley: First, to make the magic begin, you wiggle your nose, and you tickle your chin. Now close your eyes, and cross your heart, and presto! - breakfast, à la carte.
Thomas O'Malley: Aloha, auf Wiedersehen, bon soir, sayonara, and all those good bye things, baby.
Amelia Gabble: I am Amelia Gabble. And this is my sister.
Abigail Gabble: Abigail Gabble.
Amelia Gabble: We're twin sisters.
Abigail Gabble: In fact, you could say we're related.
Napoleon: Now the squeaking has stopped.
Lafayette: I still say it was a little ol' cricket bug.
Napoleon: Wait a minute. I'm the leader. I decide what it was.
Napoleon: It was a little ol' cricket bug.
Edgar: [his last words] You're going to Timbuktu if it's the last thing I do.
Thomas O'Malley: Humans don't really worry too much about their pets.
Duchess: Berlioz, come back here. Haven't you forgotten something, darling?
Berlioz the Kitten: Thank you, Miss Frou-Frou, for letting me ride on your back.
Frou-Frou the Carriage-Horse: You're quite welcome, young man.
[Berlioz turns to his mama]
Berlioz the Kitten: How was that, Mama?
Duchess: Very good, darling. That was very nice.
Berlioz the Kitten: We were just practicing biting and clawing.
Duchess: Aristocats do not practice biting and clawing, and things like that. It's just horrible.
Toulouse the Orange Kitten: But someday, we might meet a tough alley cat.
Edgar: Morning, Frou-Frou, my pretty steed.
Edgar: Can you keep a secret?
Edgar: Of course you can.
Edgar: I've some news straight from the horse's mouth. If you'll pardon the expression, of course.
Duchess: Monsieur O'Malley, you could have lost your life.
Thomas O'Malley: So I have a few to spare. Nothing.
Chinese Cat: Shanghai, Hong Kong, Egg foo young / Fortune cookie always wrong. Oh, that a hot one!
Chinese Cat: Oh boy, fellas! Let's rock the joint!
Russian Cat: Ha, ha! Groovy cats!
Scat Cat: Here you go, small fry. Blow it.
[Berlioz blows hard on a trumpet playing a very sour note]
Chinese Cat: Boy, he blew it!
Italian Cat: But he was close.
Abigail Gabble: [instructing the cats on how to walk] Now, think goose.
Toulouse the Orange Kitten: I told you it was Edgar.
Berlioz the Kitten: Aw, shut up, Toulouse.
[Edgar tries to grab his hat from off of Napoleon's head, but it lands on Lafayette]
Napoleon: [grabbing the hat] That's *my* hat! I'm the leader!
[puts it back on his head]
Lafayette: Well, shoot fire! Don't get sore at me! I ain't done nothing!
Napoleon: Where's my hat? Where? And somebody stole my bumbershoot!
Lafayette: Well, where's my beddy-bye basket?
Napoleon: And whoever it is, is gonna get it and get it good!
Lafayette: And this time, *I* get the tender part.
Napoleon: Hush your mouth! Now come on!
Uncle Waldo: Now, girls, don't go shooshing your old Uncle Waldo! Why, you'll wake up the whole neighborhood!
Uncle Waldo: Whoopee!