Jane Clark: Why should we believe you over Rick? We know you're a hypocrite. We know your "Polly Perkins" story was a fabrication...
Nick Smith: A composite.
Jane Clark: Whatever. And, that you're completely impossible and out of control, with some sort of drug problem and a fixation on what you consider Rick Von Sloneker's wickedness. You're a snob, a sexist, totally obnoxious, and tiresome. And lately, you've gotten just weird. Why should we believe anything you say?
Nick Smith: I'm not tiresome.
Nick Smith: I've always planned to be a failure anyway, that's why I plan to marry an extremely wealthy woman.
Nick Smith: It's a tiny bit arrogant of people to go around worrying about those less fortunate.
Audrey Rouget: People see the harm in what excessive candor can do.
Fred Neff: Men are dates, date substitutes or potential dates. I find that dehumanizing.
Nick Smith: Rick Von Slonecker is tall, rich, good looking, stupid, dishonest, conceited, a bully, liar, drunk and thief, an egomaniac, and probably psychotic. In short, highly attractive to women.
Man at Bar: The acid test is whether you take any pleasure in responding to the question "What do you do?" I can't bear it.
Charlie Black: Where do you get off, "you're suprised"? At what? You were Audrey's escort, yet you blithely left her stranded in the middle of the dance so you can try to work things out with Serena! And then you try to shirk the whole thing off on Fred.
Tom Townsend: I'm not trying to shirk it off on Fred. And I was not Audrey's escort. We were all there as a group. In any case, I'm very sorry there was a mixup.
Charlie Black: There was no mixup.
Tom Townsend: I'm sorry I left. But it wasn't intentional.
Charlie Black: When you're an egoist, none of the harm you ever do is intentional!
Sally Fowler: What have you against Tom?
Charlie Black: Just one thing: He's not a good person.
Audrey Rouget: What Jane Austen novels have you read?
Tom Townsend: None. I don't read novels. I prefer good literary criticism. That way you get both the novelists' ideas as well as the critics' thinking. With fiction I can never forget that none of it really happened, that it's all just made up by the author.
Tom Townsend: I've never been this drunk before. The problem is, with Fred no longer drinking, I can't pace myself.
Nick Smith: I guess you could say it's extremely vulgar, I like it a lot.
Nick Smith: Playing strip poker with an exhibitionist somehow takes the challenge away.
Charlie Black: Fourierism was tried in the late nineteenth century... and it failed. Wasn't Brookfarm Fourierist? It failed.
Tom Townsend: That's debatable.
Charlie Black: Whether Brookfarm failed?
Tom Townsend: That it ceased to exist, I'll grant you, but whether or not it failed cannot be definitively said.
Charlie Black: Well, for me, ceasing to exist is - is failure. I mean, that's pretty definitive.
Tom Townsend: Well, everyone ceases to exist. Doesn't mean everyone's a failure.
Jane Clark: What are you reading?
Nick Smith: The story of Babar... I'd forgotten how beautiful it was.
Nick Smith: The titled aristocracy are the scum of the earth.
Sally Fowler: You always say "titled" aristocrats. What about "untitled" aristocrats?
Nick Smith: Well, I could hardly despise them, could I? That would be self-hatred.
Tom Townsend: [to Serena Slocum] I haven't been giving you the silent treatment. I just haven't been talking to you.
Rick Von Sloneker: Get outta here and take this flat-chested, goody-goody, pain in the neck with you
[referring to Audrey]
Tom Townsend: She is NOT a goody-goody.
Audrey Rouget: [after Tom disappears with Serena] Tom's not used to places like this. Maybe he went through one of those stairway doors that lock from the inside.
Nick Smith: He can't get locked in. I used to have to use those doors when people forgot to invite me to their parties.
Nick Smith: Dawn in the big city. There are eight million stories out there.
Charlie Black: Thanks a lot. We shouldn't be long.
Cab Driver: Take as long as you like - I'm leaving.
Nick Smith: The most important thing to realize about parents is that there is absolutely nothing you can do about them.
Tom Townsend: He seems less pessimistic than you.
Charlie Black: I know: it doesn't ring true.
Charlie Black: But I *am* authorized to use my mother's card: I use it all the time.
Charlie Black: I can't believe you don't have a driver's license.
Tom Townsend: Of course I don't. I live in Manhattan.
Charlie Black: Hey, look at this.
Tom Townsend: What is it?
Charlie Black: Looks like some girl's panties.
Tom Townsend: Jesus, that bastard.
Serena Slocum: I didn't save your letters but I didn't throw them away.
Tom Townsend: I don't understand, is that a riddle?
Cynthia McLean: Is our language so impoverished that we have to use acronyms of French phrases to make ourselves understood?
Nick Smith: Yes.
Charlie Black: That was really embarrassing. Thank you for including me.
Charlie Black: Of course there is a God. We all basically know there is.
Cynthia McLean: I know no such thing.
Charlie Black: Of course you do. When you think to yourself, and most of our waking life is taken up thinking to ourselves, you must have that feeling that your thoughts aren't entirely wasted, that in some sense they are being heard. Rationally, they aren't. You're entirely alone. Even the people to whom we are closest can have no real idea of what is going on in our minds. We aren't devastated by loneliness because, at a hardly conscious level, we don't accept that we're entirely alone. I think this sensation of being silently listned to with total comprehension... something you never find in real life... represents our innate belife in a supreme being, some all-comprehending intelligence.
Tom Townsend: Pomfret. Where did you go?
Jane Clark: Farmington. Both of us did.
Tom Townsend: Did you know Serena Slocum there?
Jane Clark: The inevitable question.
Tom Townsend: What?
Jane Clark: Guys always ask that. Serene had an incredible number of b.f.'s; boyfriends. At least 20. She could manage it because they were all at different schools and she wrote them letters incredibly quickly, three in a single study hall. She became really famous. It's incredible how naive some guys are. By the way, how did you know here?
Audrey Rouget: That might give someone the wrong impression. She wrote a lot of guys, but I'm sure she liked some a lot more than others.
Jane Clark: You think so? I never noticed that.
Jane Clark: How do you know Serena?
Tom Townsend: I was one of her b.f.'s.
Charlie Black: I don't see how you can stand him. You're always complaining about people being frauds and phoneys. This guy is the phoney of the decade, yet you act as he were your long-lost best friend.
Nick Smith: Tom's hardly a phoney. Just mildly deluded. He's a perfectly nice guy.
Charlie Black: That's just another aspect of his phoniness. He's a terrible phoney, and when he's not being a phoney, he's a bastard.
Nick Smith: Oh, come on.
Charlie Black: You saw how he treated Audrey last night.
Nick Smith: Well, Audrey seems to have forgotten it.
Charlie Black: She has to act that way. Otherwise it would be even more humiliating. But I don't have to pretend Tom Townsend is a nice guy.
Nick Smith: You're really gaga about Audrey, aren't you?
Charlie Black: If by "gaga" you mean, do I like her? Yes, I do.
Nick Smith: Well, why don't you do something about it, instead of just going on and on about what a bastard Tom Townsend is.
Charlie Black: What do I do? Declare myself? That would be an absolute disaster. I don't think I haven't thought about these things. But I think if the situation could just continue as it has been, they gradually, over time, it'd grow into something more. That, at least, is what I've been hoping for.
Tom Townsend: [pulls out a gun after Rick punches him] Get back, Rick!
Rick Von Sloneker: Jesus, he's got a gun!
Charlie Black: I warn you! He's a Fourierist!