the philadelphia story

Mike: I would sell my grandmother for a drink - and you know how I love my grandmother.

Mike: This is the Bridal Suite. Would you send up a couple of caviar sandwiches and a bottle of beer?
Margaret Lord: What? Who is this?
Mike: This is the Voice of Doom calling. Your days are numbered, to the seventh son of the seventh son.
Margaret Lord: Hello? Hello?
Tracy Lord: What's the matter?
Margaret Lord: One of the servants has been at the sherry again.


George: You're like some marvelous, distant, well, queen, I guess. You're so cool and fine and always so much your own. There's a kind of beautiful purity about you, Tracy, like, like a statue.
Tracy Lord: George...
George: Oh, it's grand, Tracy. It's what everybody feels about you. It's what I first worshipped you for from afar.
Tracy Lord: I don't want to be worshipped. I want to be loved.

Tracy Lord: [normal voice] Hello, Dexter. [lower voice] Hello, George. [high childish voice] Hello, Mike.


Mike: Tracy.
Tracy Lord: What do you want?
Mike: You're wonderful. There's a magnificence in you, Tracy.
Tracy Lord: Now I'm getting self-conscious. It's funny. I - Mike? Let's...
Mike: Yeah?
Tracy Lord: I don't know - go up, I guess, it's late.
Mike: A magnificence that comes out of your eyes, in your voice, in the way you stand there, in the way you walk. You're lit from within, Tracy. You've got fires banked down in you, hearth-fires and holocausts.
Tracy Lord: I don't seem to you made of bronze?
Mike: No, you're made out of flesh and blood. That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl, Tracy. Full of life and warmth and delight. What goes on? You've got tears in your eyes.
Tracy Lord: Shut up, shut up. Oh, Mike. Keep talking, keep talking. Talk, will you?

Tracy Lord: Put me in your pocket, Mike.


Dinah: Nothing ever possibly in the least ever happens here. Mother, how do you get smallpox?

[Dexter has just proposed]
Tracy Lord: Oh Dexter you're not doing it just to soften the blow?
C. K. Dexter Haven: No.
Tracy Lord: Nor to save my face?
C. K. Dexter Haven: Oh, it's a nice little face.
Tracy Lord: Oh Dexter, I'll be yar now, I promise to be yar.
C. K. Dexter Haven: Be whatever you like, you're my redhead.