Venice Muir: People who live in glass houses shouldn't live in glass houses.
Venice Muir: I guess I'm too - pure. Well, nothing I can do about that. I wonder...
Party Guest: Who's that girl?
Donnie Wainwright: Which one?
Party Guest: The one in white over there, wasting that gorgeous smile on old man Patridge.
Donnie Wainwright: Oh, that's Venice Muir.
Party Guest: Well, I'm cutting in.
Donnie Wainwright: Go ahead. She's a nice girl. Nicest girl I know. Old Patridge is her lawyer. You know, custody of her estate. He said he used to take her over his knee and spank her, et cetera.
Party Guest: Well, he can be her lawyer or trustee, I'll, eh, take the et cetera.
Lola: Someday a man with a nose for adventure is going to come along - and - discover Venice. And you can just bet that he'll have the most exciting time of any man in New York.
Donnie Wainwright: I love your sense of humor; but, don't use it just now.
Venice Muir: Would you like to earn some money?
Guy Bryson: I'll do anything short of murder.
Venice Muir: Well, would you work for me?
Guy Bryson: Well, sure, why not?
Venice Muir: Well, I know this, eh, funny thing to ask anyone, but, I was wondering, could you be a, sort of, well, eh, sort of, a gigolo?
Guy Bryson: I spent an hour at the Ritz bar after I left you. Oh, lady, lady, when I left there, a lot of the fellas said that you were simply wonderful! You had everything! Even a very, eh, a very slight past.
Venice Muir: Past?
Guy Bryson: Oh, nothing you could put your finger on. But, a lot of the boys will try.
Venice Muir: Oh, I'll die. I couldn't live up to the past of a midget!
Guy Bryson: You don't know midgets. Now, I heard of a midget that broke up the home of a heavy weight champ.
Guy Bryson: Courage, my pet. Courage.
Guy Bryson: Get up. I hate to see a woman on her knees, unless, she''s scrubbing.
Guy Bryson: Come along, come along. I want to give you a practical lesson in what used to be called sin.
Guy Bryson: I still think the bicycle races are more interesting than the polo match.
Donnie Wainwright: Well, I guess the only place I could talk to you would be while you're taking a bath.
Venice Muir: You seem unusually gay tonight, Rene, and rightfully so. It's a lovely party.
Venice Muir: What's the matter, Rene? A few moments ago you seemed gay!
Guy Bryson: Don't throw away your red flannel underwear the minute I get off this boat.
Guy Bryson: [Repeated line] Goodbye, my pet.
Venice Muir: Are we really going to the bicycle races?
Guy Bryson: Let's go on a crying drunk. No, no, I can't tonight. I've got to go to the bicycle races.
Guy Bryson: What do you think about the bicycle races?
Carlos Santiagos: Bi-cycle races are idiotic.
Guy Bryson: What's so idiotic about 'em?
Carlos Santiagos: They don't get any where.
Guy Bryson: I suppose polo players do?
Carlos Santiagos: Certainly, to the goal post.
Guy Bryson: Well, bicycle races get to the finish.
Carlos Santiagos: The finish is the start.
Guy Bryson: Well, nevertheless, we're going to the bi-cycle races.
Guy Bryson: We're going to the bicycle races in a few minutes.
Guy Bryson: I'll teach you, my pet.
Guy Bryson: I think anything might be possible with you.
Venice Muir: I've simply got to stop talking to myself. I talk to myself so much I'm worn out when I meet people.