Eli Wallach: Harry Hunter
Photos
Quotes
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Harry Hunter : [to Carol] But there's an opening in merchandising, and you have character, integrity, and principle. It'd be interesting to see if an executive could survive with such handicaps.
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Harry Hunter : Now that we've established my guilt, I think you will concide that a promotion is a proper subject for discussion.
Carol Corman : Not under these conditions. I would be accepting a bribe to remain quiet.
Harry Hunter : Miss Corman, I always search for honesty and integrity. Its unfortunate to run across it at this particular moment. Couldn't you find it in your heart to be just a little corrupt?
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Harry Hunter : Why is it, the only time a wife knows how you feel is when you feel it for another woman?
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Harry Hunter : There's a war going on in the suburbs. Do you want to know what life is like in those split-level trenches? I'm a casualty! I- I'm one of the walking wounded!
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Harry Hunter : When your marriage isn't going well, the last thing you look for is another woman.
David Sloane : How come it's the first thing you find?
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Harry Hunter : Somehow the meatloaf is never cold.
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Harry Hunter : Every time you have something important to say, you always soften the blow by insulting me first.
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Harry Hunter : How do you describe a saint?
David Sloane : Usually, they're dead. Now a saint she ain't. So throw me a few of her mortal qualities.
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Harry Hunter : Now if you can get by that mental block, I have a feeling there's something you want to tell me.
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Harry Hunter : [Describing Muriel] Honest, loyal, selfless, devoted, dedicated, understanding. You've never met anyone like this.
David Sloane : I don't think you have either. And I pity the wife of a man who thinks he has.
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Harry Hunter : Visit the shrine so you can throw away your crutches of disbelief.
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Harry Hunter : [Pointing to a big shaggy dog in his station wagon] Mary's mother gave that to me as a present. She trained it. She would show it photos of me and say, 'Kill! Kill!'
David Sloane : Harry, cradle the affectionate little creature in your arms. Add a wing to your house so Mary's mother can be with you forever.
Harry Hunter : Will you roll up your sleeves so I can see the needle marks?
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Harry Hunter : Dragged out in the middle of the night to hear the ravings of a mad man.
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Harry Hunter : I'd turn that dog loose on you, if I wasn't afraid he'd tear me apart.
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Harry Hunter : Sloane, I'm ashamed to dignify this evil lie with a phone call. When I hang up, I expect you to walk into the next room, and soon after, I want to hear a gunshot.
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Harry Hunter : David, only a cruel, sadistic mind could think of that.
David Sloane : Now you're beginning to appreciate me.
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Harry Hunter : For two days I rode in a refrigerated boxcar with a load of broccoli.
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Harry Hunter : This is anarchy, socialism, creeping Trotskyism. Isn't that what you told me in the cab?
David Sloane : And you're going to take advice form a man that almost destroyed you? Look what I've done to you.
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David Sloane : Hey, when are you ever gonna learn, Harry?
Harry Hunter : I trusted you.
David Sloane : Oh, don't try to squirm out. Admit it. Your judgment was lousy.
Harry Hunter : But this is an attack on my integrity.
David Sloane : Integrity? When I came into your office telling poisonous, horrible lies about this saint-like creature, why didn't you have me tossed out?
Harry Hunter : I don't know. Why didn't I?
David Sloane : Because there's a flaw in your character, that's why, Harry.
Harry Hunter : David, help me.
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Harry Hunter : Muriel, I've made up my mind. We're getting married.
Muriel Laszlo : Have a sandwich first. You shouldn't make a big decision on an empty stomach.
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Harry Hunter : [to David Sloane] Yeah you're successful. You're charming, in a sneaky way.
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David Sloane : No, no. Don't give her the satisfaction of anger. Act as if you're the one breaking it off.
Harry Hunter : Huh?
David Sloane : Yeah, send her a note.
Harry Hunter : That's right. I'll break it off.
David Sloane : Yeah, cold, formal, unemotional.
Harry Hunter : [Writing and breaking pencil points] You... You craven... You craven, double-crossing Jezebel...
David Sloane : [Trying to interrupt Harry's frantic writing] No, Harry... Harry, write this: "This is to inform you..."
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Harry Hunter : Oh, I see. That's good, that's good. I see what you mean. Cold, unemotional... like firing an old trusted employee.
David Sloane : Now you're getting the idea.
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Harry Hunter : May-maybe it starts the first time you come home twenty minutes late for dinner, and your wife greats you at the door with those welcoming words, 'The meatloaf is cold!' Your first instinct is to say, 'If it's cold, reheat the lousy thing.' Instead you apologize, and you say you love cold meatloaf! That cold meatloaf you eat is your Münich. You've said, 'Peace at any price.' It's when you light a cigar in the living room, and she sniffs as though you're polluting the air. Rather than contaminate this delicate flower you married, you go out and finish the cigar on the front lawn. Like- like a dog who's being punished for soiling the rug. Maybe the first night she uses the ultimate weapon. You walk into- into your bedroom, and there on the night table next to her stands the aspirin bottle. With a grim message: Have headache- don't touch! What do you do?
David Sloane : Don't touch.
[Harry fumes and moans]
Harry Hunter : You curl up in the fetal position and you pray for merciful sleep! And children. Children! She won't even discuss it. I always wanted a child. And if it were a boy: H.H. Hunter and Son! I guess that's how it starts. There are no- no violent scenes, no drawn knives, no blazing guns, just a thousand little frustrations! And suddenly one night you find yourself with a perfect stranger!
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Harry Hunter : [to Carol Corman, implying that he's counting on her discreetness about his extramarital affair] The executive who says nothing is known for his wisdom.
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Harry Hunter : [after Sloane has given Hunter some bad news about Hunter's supposed mistress] From the beginning you've been determined to vilify this innocent girl.
David Sloane : Harry, this is one of the most painful duties I've ever had to perform.
Harry Hunter : Sloane, I'm ashamed to dignify this evil lie with a phone call. When I hang up, I expect you to walk into the next room. And soon after, I want to hear a gunshot!
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Harry Hunter : Who opened the door?
Carol Corman : You did.
Harry Hunter : A married man.
Carol Corman : You just happened to be there, drinking a martini.
Harry Hunter : In a dressing gown? With an unmarried woman? What conclusion would you draw from that?
Carol Corman : You don't like drinking alone?
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Harry Hunter : I've always prided myself on my ability to spot an employee who has executive potential. Now, this potential is sometimes brought to your attention under the most unusual conditions. But, you know immediately this person will go far in your organization. In your sense, intelligence, initiative, dedication - and most important - discreetness.
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Roger : He stays away two nights a week, says he sleeps at the club. Business. He says its too late to catch the last train.
Harry Hunter : Maybe it's true.
Roger : Too late to catch the last train? When we were first married, he'd *walk* those 25 miles to get to me.
Harry Hunter : Mary, that was 12 years ago. You know, they say in baseball and marriage., the first thing to go are the legs.
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David Sloane : The nights you don't go to see her, how does she go to fill those empty hours?
Harry Hunter : Let's take last night.
David Sloane : Oh, that's a good night.
Harry Hunter : Last night, she stayed home, washed by bathrobe, and pickled a jar of tomatoes.
David Sloane : She stayed home, last night, and pickled tomatoes for you.
Harry Hunter : She knows I love them. She *lives* to please me. Now, are you beginning to get the picture?
David Sloane : Harry, the pickling, you know, the story you used? That just about convinced me. Pickling, pickling for you.
Harry Hunter : You still have reservations?
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Harry Hunter : Sloane, you're cynical.
David Sloane : No, I'm overwhelmed. I don't think you can feed a disbeliever too much religion at one time.
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Marcia Borie : Oh, David, could we go to a local hamburger place I know on 49th Street? Somehow it always reminds me of Sundays back home.
Harry Hunter : Well, I was thinking of the 21 Club but, if you'd rather...
Marcia Borie : Would you mind?
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Harry Hunter : You came across a lovely poem - and out of it you made something you see scrawled on a men's room.
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David Sloane : Don't involve me!
Harry Hunter : Don't involve the assassin? You struck in the dark. You've destroyed the girl's character.
David Sloane : All I destroyed was a boy's fantasy.
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Harry Hunter : Sweetheart, you shouldn't carry anything as heavy as this! What are husband's for?
[grabs her suitcase and opens the car door]
Harry Hunter : Watch your footsies, angel.
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Harry Hunter : With her sensitive skin, I had to stop at a motel that had rough linen.
