Allan: I don't have a lawyer. Have him call my doctor.
Dick: [on the phone] I'll be at 362-9296 for a while, then I'll be at 648-0024 for about 15 minutes, then I'll be at 752-0420, and then I'll be home, at 621-4598. Yeah, right George, bye-bye.
Linda: There's a phone booth on the corner. You want me to run downstairs and get the number? You'll be passing it.
Allan: You want a Fresca with a Darvon?
Linda: Unless you have some apple juice.
Allan: Apple juice and Darvon is fantastic together!
Linda: Have you ever had Librium and tomato juice?
Allan: No, I haven't personally, but another neurotic tells me they're unbelievable.
Dick: Could I get a coke with nothing in it?
Dick: [to Linda Christie, about Allan Felix] He was always very fussy.
Allan: [to Linda and Dick Christie] Yes, but look at the results.
Dick: [to Allan Felix] Yes, you never went out.
Allan: That's quite a lovely Jackson Pollock, isn't it?
Museum girl: Yes, it is.
Allan: What does it say to you?
Museum girl: It restates the negativeness of the universe. The hideous lonely emptiness of existence. Nothingness. The predicament of man forced to live in a barren, godless eternity like a tiny flame flickering in an immense void with nothing but waste, horror, and degradation, forming a useless, bleak straitjacket in a black, absurd cosmos.
Allan: What are you doing Saturday night?
Museum girl: Committing suicide.
Allan: What about Friday night?
Nancy: [as a fantasy appearance] Allan, what do you expect? Didn't I always say you were not the romantic type?
Allan: Whatsa matter with me, Nancy?
Nancy: You're a dreamer. You're awkward. You're clumsy. They can see how desperate you are. You know this. You said it yourself.
Allan: Look, don't go by that girl tonight. She was nothing. I was toying with her.
Nancy: Oh, face it, Allan. You may be very sweet, but you're not sexy.
Allan: Oh, don't be so sure. You never said that when we were married.
Nancy: I was thinking it.
Linda walks into a projection room where she finds Allan fixing a projector.
Linda: Allan? Are you busy?
Allan: [stops working] What're you doing here?
Linda: [sighs] I don't feel so hot.
Allan: Whatsa matter?
Linda: What do you have for an anxiety attack? I need a tranquilizer.
Allan: I got everything. I'm a drug store. [starts going through his pockets] What's wrong?
Linda: I have this throbbing in the pit of my stomach.
Allan: Yeah, well how do you know it's anxiety? How do you know it's not fear?
Linda: Oh, my stomach feels jumpy.
Allan: Yeah, you find it hard to breathe?
Linda: Yeah, a little. I feel frightened, and I don't know what over.
Allan: Yeah, I get that.
Linda: What is it, fear or anxiety?
Allan: Homosexual panic. [hands her some pills]
Nancy: Don't listen to him!
Bogart: Don't listen to her.
Allan: Fellas, we're in a supermarket.
Allan: I can't do it. How does it look? I invite her over and then come on like a sex degenerate. What am I, a rapist?
Bogart: You're getting carried away. You think too much. Just do it.
Allan: We're platonic friends. I can't spoil that by coming on. She'll slap my face.
Bogart: Oh, I've had my face slapped plenty of times.
Allan: Yeah, but your glasses don't go flying across the room.
Allan: I have met a lot of dames, but you are really something special.
Allan: [to Bogart] She bought it!
Allan: If that plane leaves the ground, and you're not on it, you'll regret it, maybe not today maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.
Linda: That's beautiful!
Allan: It's from Casablanca. I've waited my whole life to say it.
Bogart: That was great. You've, uh, you've really developed yourself a little style.
Allan: Yeah, I do have a certain amount of style, don't I?
Bogart: Well, I guess you won't be needing me any more. There's nothing I can tell you now that you don't already know.
Allan: I guess that's so. I guess the secret's not being you, it's being me. True, you're—you're not too tall and kind of ugly, but - what the hell, I'm short enough and ugly enough to succeed on my own.
Bogart: Hmmph. Here's looking at you, kid.
Dick Christie: Who were those guys?
Allan Felix: Oh, they said they were hairdressers, hard to believe though.
Linda: Would you like us to call a doctor?
Allan: No, no, I could use a three foot band-aid.
Allan: This is a beautiful beach house.
Linda: Thank you.
Allan: Yeah, let's burn it down for the insurance money.
Allan: Here, I got you a present because it's your birthday.
Linda: How'd you know?
Allan: Well, you mentioned the date, and I remembered because it's the same day my mother had her hysterectomy.
Dick: Allan, the world is full of eligible women.
Allan: Yeah, but not like Nancy. She was a lovely thing. I used to lay in bed at night and watch her sleep. Once in a while, she would wake up and catch me. She would let out a scream.
Dick: Allan, you have invested your emotions in a losing stock, it was wiped out, it dropped off the board. Now what do you do Allan? You reinvest. Maybe in a more stable stock. Something with long term growth possibilities.
Allan: Who are you going to fix me up with, General Motors?
Linda: Maybe if you just leaned across the candlelight and kissed her.
Allan: I tried. She used to say, "Christ, not here, everybody's staring."
Dick: You know any other girls?
Linda: I don't know if any of my friends are his type. I mean, most of the girls I know are fairly normal.
Linda: I feel some sort of a mystical attraction for Van Gogh. Why is that?
Allan: I don't know. I just know he was a great painter, and he cut off an ear for a girl that he loved.
Linda: That's the kind of thing you would do for a girl.
Allan: I'd really have to like her a lot.
Dick: What? You got into a fight?
Dick: With who?
Allan: Some guys were getting tough with Julie. I had to teach them a lesson.
Dick: Are you all right?
Allan: Yeah, I'm fine. I snapped my chin down onto some guy's fist and hit another one in the knee with my nose.
Allan: You were fantastic last night in bed.
Linda: Oh, thanks.
Allan: How do you feel now?
Linda: I think the Pepto Bismol helped.
Bogart: Now move closer to her.
Allan: How close?
Bogart: The length of your lips.
Allan: That's very close.
Allan: [preparing room for guests] Got just the thing, my hundred yard dash medal.
Linda: Oh you're joking. You're not going to leave out a track medal.
Allan: Why not? I paid 20 dollars for it.
Allan: Maybe you move in with me for a while. As long as we handle this in a mature way. As long as I'm mature about it, you're mature about it. Both of us are mature, we can achieve a certain maturation, that guarantees maturiosity.