Stationmaster: I'll be darned if I understand you city folks. Always rushing, rushing, rushing. Always thinking about the future. No wonder you have stomach trouble.
Princess Aouda: Mr. Fogg, why must you be so... so British?
Phileas Fogg: And furthermore, you play an abominable game of whist. Good day, sir.
Col. Proctor Stamp: Thanks. You're still a foreigner, but you're true blue.
Phileas Fogg: An Englishman never jokes about a wager, sir.
Saloon Bouncer: Listen, you. Get out and stay out. If I ever catch you in here again, I'll cut you up in a thousand pieces.
Col. Proctor Stamp: What kind of foreigner are you? Are you a hoochie-coochie dancer?
Sporting Lady: Call a bobbie! I've been robbed.
Phileas Fogg: Madam, will you join me on the verandah? I understand they serve an outstanding lemon squash.
Ralph: Your persiflage does not amuse.
Saloon Hostess: [to Phineas Fogg, as he is leaving the saloon] You still in a hurry? I thought the English were calm, dreamy sort of people.
Phileas Fogg: Crisis or no, nothing should interfere with tea!
Mr. Fix: Follow that ostrich!
Phileas Fogg: Steward, my Thursday midday meal has always been and will always be hot soup, fried sole, roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, baked potatoes, suet pudding and treacle.