The Apartment

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The Apartment is a 1960 film about an ambitious insurance clerk whose fast track to an executive suite gets derailed when he becomes involved with his boss's latest girlfriend.

Directed by Billy Wilder. Written by Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond.
Movie-wise, there has never been anything like "The Apartment" love-wise, laugh-wise or otherwise-wise!

Calvin Clifford (C. C.) "Bud" Baxter[edit]

  • That's the way it crumbles...cookie-wise.
  • On November 1st, 1959, the population of New York City was 8,042,783. If you laid all these people end to end, figuring an average height of five feet six and a half inches, they would reach from Times Square to the outskirts of Karachi, Pakistan. I know facts like this because I work for an insurance company - Consolidated Life of New York. We're one of the top five companies in the country. Our home office has 31,259 employees, which is more than the entire population of uhh... Natchez, Mississippi. I work on the 19th floor. Ordinary Policy Department, Premium Accounting Division, Section W, desk number 861.
  • Ya know, I used to live like Robinson Crusoe. I mean shipwrecked among 8 million people. And then one day I saw a footprint in the sand and there you were.
  • Miss Kubelik, one doesn't get to be a second administrative assistant around here unless he's a pretty good judge of character, and as far as I'm concerned you're tops. I mean, decency-wise and otherwise-wise.

Fran Kubelik[edit]

  • Why do people have to love people anyway?
  • I wouldn't be too sure. Just because I wear a uniform that doesn't make me a girl scout.
  • How could I be so stupid. You would think I should have learned by now. When you're in love with a married man you shouldn't wear mascara.
  • Some people take, some people get took. And they know they're getting took and there's nothing they can do about it.
  • I wonder how long it takes to get someone you're stuck on out of your system. They should invent a pump for that.
  • You fool. You damn fool.


Fran: Shall I light the candles?
Bud: It's a must! Gracious living-wise.

Bud: The's broken.
Fran: Yes, I know. I like it that way. Makes me look the way I feel.

Fran: I never catch colds.
Bud: Really. I was reading some figures from the Sickness and Accident Claims Division. You know that the average New Yorker between the ages of twenty and fifty has two and a half colds a year.
Fran: That makes me feel just terrible.
Bud: Why?
Fran: Well, to make the figures come out even, if I have no colds a year, some poor slob must have five colds a year.
Bud: [sheepishly] Yeah... it's me.

Bud: What about Mr. Sheldrake?
Fran: We'll send him a fruitcake every Christmas.

Bud: [playing cards] I love you, Miss Kubelik. Did you hear what I said, Miss Kubelik? I absolutely adore you.
Fran: Shut up and deal.

Fran: Would you mind opening the window?
Bud: Now don't go getting any ideas, Miss Kubelik.
Fran: I just want some fresh air.
Bud: It's only one story down. The best you can do is break a leg.
Fran: So they'll shoot me - like a horse.
Bud: Please, Miss Kubelik, you got to promise me you won't do anything foolish.
Fran: Who'd care?
Bud: I would.
Fran: Why can't I ever fall in love with someone nice like you?

Mrs MacDougall: At night, it sorta spooks you. Walking into an empty apartment.
Bud: I said I had no family. I didn't say I had an empty apartment.

Fran I don't know... I guess that's the way it crumbles... cookie-wise.
Sheldrake: What are you takling about?
Fran: I'd spell it out for you, only I can't spell.


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