Dixie - Hatcheck Girl: I just love to snoop!
Steve McBride: You're great! You're colossal! You oughta be a detective.
Torchy Blane: So ought you.
Steve McBride: Hah. Don't make any difference what I was, I'd never be able to figure out what goes on in that dizzy brain of yours!
Torchy Blane: Gonna take you the rest of your life to find out!
Steve McBride: All right, I'll take the job!
Torchy Blane: Are you proposing to me?
Steve McBride: Well, yes!
Dolly Ireland: Say, you two, sh. This is a hospital.
Steve McBride: Oh, we're sorry.
Torchy Blane: Forgive us.
Steve McBride: Maybe she'll feel better if I take her out and feed her. Let's eat.
Torchy Blane: Oh, darling.
'Tiny' Torgenson: Me? Well, I like it like I am. A little rough, a little tough, a little nasty.
Fitz Mularkey: Poor little Tiny. Didn't even carry a gun. He used to say it was guns and bodyguards that got guys killed.
Torchy Blane: I don't think it'll get you anything.
Steve McBride: Why not?
Torchy Blane: Because you can't charge these guys with anything. You can only hold them overnight. You'll bring in 20 all together. You'll have to do some shellacking. So, if you work on each one 3 hours - that's 60 hours and you can't hold 'em that long.
Steve McBride: You're just one of these destructive critics. You say everything a guy does is rotten, but, you don't build up anything yourself.
Fitz Mularkey: This is Torchy Blane, the best newspaper gal in town!
Steve McBride: Quite a library, Fitz.
Fitz Mularkey: You like it?
Steve McBride: Yeah!
Fitz Mularkey: I hired a college kid to pick these books out. I don't read much myself.
Steve McBride: [picks out a book] "Sonnets from the Portuguese."
Fitz Mularkey: Well, I guess I couldn't read that if I wanted to.
Dolly Ireland: Well it looks like Ireland's on. I won't say goodbye.
Fitz Mularkey: That's right. It's your last night too isn't it?
Dolly Ireland: Want me to sing my last song for you?
Fitz Mularkey: Yeah, will ya?
Dolly Ireland: [singing] Why do I have to sing a torch song, When there is a love song in my heart...
Steve McBride: You drive me batty! You get all steamed up about something and then you throw cold water on it.
Gahagan: What a day! What a day. I feel like a million bucks. I could write a poem, I could. A poem I could write. A poem! I could.
Gahagan: Hypnotized, By the green in your eyes...
Gahagan: Boy, oh, boy, do I feel good. I feel like I could smack somebody right in the jaw!
City Editor: Listen, Torchy, are you working for me or Steve McBride? Now, I have another assignment for you...
Torchy Blane: Aw, listen, Maxie, give me a break, will ya? That big palooka can't even think without me around. I've got a couple of angles on this case.
City Editor: Why don't you marry that guy?
Torchy Blane: That's one of the angles.
Steve McBride: Aw, you're aces with me, kid. You know, Torchy, I like you and I ought to be hung for slamming you around the way I have.
Torchy Blane: Skipper...
Steve McBride: Yeah, from now on the rough stuff is out, as far as you're concerned. I'm gonna treat you right.
Torchy Blane: Oh, Skipper!
Gahagan: What a night. What a night! I love the night. And the stars. They're like a symphony. What do I see?
Steve McBride: I'll never be able to figure out what goes on in that dizzy brain of yours!