Oliver Twist (1948)
Nancy: I will not turn on the others because, bad as they are, they never turned on me.
Mr. Brownlow: The law assumes that your wife acts under your direction.
Mr. Bumble: If the law supposes that, then the law is a ass, a idiot! If that's the eye of the law, then the law is a bachelor. And the worst I wish the law is that his eye may be opened by experience.
Mr. Bumble: Cry your hardest now, it opens the lungs, washes the countenance, exercises the eyes and softens down the temper. So cry away.
Town Crier: [SPOILER] Murder! Brutal Murder!
Oliver Twist: Please, sir. I want some more.
Workhouse Master: What?
Mrs. Corney: What?
Mr. Bumble: What?
Chairman of the Board: Ask for more?
Nancy: [about Oliver] I thieved for you when I was a child not half his age, and I've thieved for you ever since, don't you know it!
Fagin: And if you have, it is your living!
Nancy: Aye, it is. It is my living. And you're the wretch that drove me to them long ago, and that'll keep me there, day and night, day and night, DAY AND NIGHT!
Fagin: What's become of the boy? Speak or I'll throttle you!
Dodger: The traps have got him, and that's all about it!
Mr. Bumble: You'll make your fortune, Mr Sowerberry.
Mr. Sowerberry: The prices allowed by the board are very small.
Mr. Bumble: So are the coffins.
Noah Claypole: Do you know who I am?
Oliver Twist: No, sir.
Noah Claypole: I'm Mr Noah Claypole and you're under me so don't you forget it!
Mr. Sowerberry: There's an expression of melancholy in his face, my dear, which is very interesting. He'd make a delightful mute, my love.
Noah Claypole: Workhouse, what's your mother?
Oliver Twist: She's dead.
Noah Claypole: What - she die of workhouse?
Oliver Twist: They said she died of a broken heart.
Fagin: You'd like to make pocket handkerchiefs as easily as the Artful Dodger, wouldn't you my dear?
Oliver Twist: Yes, if you teach me sir.
Fagin: We will, my dear, we will.
Mr. Brownlow: Somehow I feel you and I are going to be good friends.
Mr. Brownlow: How would you like to grow up a clever man and write books?
Oliver Twist: I think I'd rather read them sir.
Mr. Brownlow: What, don't you want to be a book writer?
Oliver Twist: I think I'd rather be a bookseller sir.
Mr. Brownlow: It only remains for me to tell you that neither of you will ever be employed in a position of trust again.
Nancy: Let him be or I'll put that mark on you that'll send me to the gallows before me time.
Bill Sikes: Fair or not fair, give it 'ere you avaricious old skeleton.