Olga Chekaloff: You make trouble for me? How do you like that? In Russia I was bitten by a wolfhound, my mother was lost in a snowstorm, my father was sent to Siberia, your mother and father are yelling their heads off, you sister's taking her singing lessons, I've got exactly four squabs and I can't find out how many's for dinner! And you're gonna make trouble for me?

Hillary Bellaire: Olga!

Olga Chekaloff: All right, all right, I know, my cap's on crooked.

Hillary Bellaire: Good heavens, what next?

Olga Chekaloff: Meatballs!

Taxi driver: Look, what about this 2,85? I gotta get going, I've been here twenty minutes already.

Olga Chekaloff: You've been here twenty minutes? I've been here eleven years. I stopped yelling for my money ten years ago.

Madame Le Brouchette: It should be:


Madame Le Brouchette: The one I love -

Olga Chekaloff: [Pats her shoulder] Eat your spaghetti!

Hillary Bellaire: Quiet, quiet! Is this a madhouse?

Olga Chekaloff: Yes sir. I mean no sir.

Hillary Bellaire: What a household. Servants butting in, telling you how things should be done.

John Fleming: Well, after all, they represent the masses. Do you know what I mean by the masses? People who are not actors. There are dozens of them and they come in very handy at the box office. Strangely enough, if they don't like a show, the show closes. Moliere, if you remember, used to ask the advice of his cook.

Diana Bellaire: Olga, this isn't what I want. I said strawberry jam.

Olga Chekaloff: You said blackberry, but I gave you the raspberry.

Diana Bellaire: Olga, your cap is on crooked.

John Fleming: Olga?

Olga Chekaloff: Yes, sir?

John Fleming: What do you think of Mr. Bellaire's play?

Olga Chekaloff: Well, it depends on how I feel. Sometimes I feel it ain't so bad, and sometimes I feel it ain't so good. But I don't like to say.

Diana Bellaire: Only a woman suffers as a woman can - quietly, deeply, bravely.

Hillary Bellaire: I wrote those lines too.

Hillary Bellaire: I'd like that speech better if I hadn't written it myself.