Alison Corning: Interested in the scenery?
Alison Corning: I suppose you don't want to go back West with any cold and lovely heiress complex to come between you and your corn-fed girls.
Alison Corning: Your he-man, son-of-the-West novelty stuff is a bit tricky. Nope. I don't think I'd care for it.
John Hawks: Oh, Miss Corning, I'd like to thank you for the weekend.
Alison Corning: Oh, no, not at all. On the whole, I think I should thank you - for not making love to me.
John Hawks: Why, I never thought of such a thing.
Alison Corning: You wouldn't, my dear. Well - this is goodbye. Goodbye from the cold and lovely heiress.
[Grabs Hawks and gives him a big kiss]
Stephen Corning: Honor? What has honor to do with it? This is Wall Street! We fight for an existence here. I'm afraid you haven't the stuff in you to make good. It takes nerve!
Stephen Corning: You've no right to think! You're paid to sell our stock. When you don't sell it, we don't pay you. Understand?
Alison Corning: My dear boy, Wall Street isn't a football field.
Alison Corning: And to think, I wasted a perfectly good kiss on you.
Big John: If you butt into our game on your own, you're liable to be snuffin' a lily, get me?
'Chub' Hopping: [Drunkenly after being chased by two girls] Oh, I wish they'd add a nineteenth amendment, makng it closed season on manhunting!
Sophie: Keep your paws off me, Fish Face!
Alison Corning: What a he-man you turned out to be.
Fish Face: You know, bein' a dead moll ain't gonna help Slim none.
Fish Face: Oh, don't cry Peaches, it'll spoil your looks. And that dumb egg ain't worth it.
Fish Face: [after kissing Sophie] You better move fast, Pepper Mama. Or I won't let ya get outta that door.
Big John: You dirty rat!
John Hawks: Tell that charming daughter of yours, that three Presidents were born in my State. That proves they're not all yaps where I come from.