Dick: And while I was contemplating that thong, I wondered... who is the person that we would least suspect of poisoning the Colonel?
Inspector Macaffery: Will you sit down? You're stealing my part. I get to do this.
Dick: How many more people have to die because of your incompetence?
Inspector Macaffery: I do the summation after brunch, every Sunday. Read the damn brochure!
Dick: No! The least likely suspect is the person who, herself, was poisoned, but poisoned only to the extent that she lay sick in her room, above suspicion, away from the crowd, the perfect dose. And who knows more about poisons than an anthropologist? A toxicologist? Yes. But forget I just said that. That leads nowhere. No! Mary Albright killed Jack Wallencott and then in a fever of vengefulness, she killed my dear friend, Colonel Pinkham.
Mary: What the-
Dick: Yes, Mary. I could tell immediately you were jealous. You never expected the Colonel and me to forge such a bond. And if you couldn't have me, no one else could.
Mary: You can't accuse me of murder, you can only accuse the actors.
Dick: And which "actors" would those be, Mary?
Colonel Pinkham: If you had hips the size of that blonde woman, would you be wearing that skirt?
Mrs. Wallencott: Oh, darling, please. I wouldn't even leave the house. Ooh.
Dick: Colonel. You're alive. And Mr. Wallencott, you... you can walk! Wait a minute, you only pretended to die. None of this is real. This is all a scam! No, wait! You're all actors. This... is the show, right? Well, you were all marvelous.
Inspector Macaffery: And you, sir, are the reason I want to leave acting, and return to my first passion... drink!

Dick: Oh, this is horrible. A man has just been murdered, and everyone is calmly standing around eating sorbet. Obviously, these people have been completely desensitized by all the gratuitous violence they've seen on television and movies... especially the movies.

Dick: Inspector.
Inspector Macaffery: Yeah? Oh, hello! Just enjoying a little sustenance. This case is a particularly taxing one.
Dick: Another man has been murdered.
Inspector Macaffery: Already? [checks watch] Oh! Sorry.
Dick: "Sorry"? Because of your laxity, a man is dead! Maybe that lazy pip-pip-cheerio attitude flies in foggy old London town, but you're in Ohio now, guv'nah!
Inspector Macaffery: Listen, I've done a thousand of these. Calm down, sit back, enjoy it.
Dick: Enjoy it? That's it. I'm taking over this investigation. Give me that police blotter. Casting call? This is for actors.
Inspector Macaffery: What do you want from me?
Dick: I'll tell you something, Macaffery, maybe you should try acting because you're a damned awful inspector!

Dick: Not so fast! No one goes to sleep just yet, Inspector.
Eames: Oh, for crying out loud.
Sally: Everybody sit their evil little butts back down, now!
Harry: Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Solomon is about to address you all. Please hold all comments until he has finished his summation.
Dick: Thank you, Harry. These are the facts, as we know them. During dinner, Jack Wallencott dropped dead into his potato, a hunting knife protruding from his back. Hours later, my dear friend Colonel Pinkham was found poisoned to death in his favorite wingback chair.
Mary: Dick, come to bed.
Dick: Quiet, Mary, I'm summing up.
Mary: But it's only Friday.
Harry: Shut it!

Dick: Now, let me get this straight, Colonel Pinkham, you stopped a charging rhino with nothing more than a stare, and then actually wrestled it to it's death?
Colonel Pinkham: That's exactly what I did.
Dick: Let me shake your hand.
Colonel Pinkham: Ah.
Mary: Having fun, sweetheart?
Dick: Oh, I'm having a wonderful time. Mary, I'd like you to meet Colonel Pinkham. He, he was just telling me about his last hunting trip.
Mary: Oh, don't tell me, let me guess. On the plains of the Serengeti?
Colonel Pinkham: Oh, you bagged yourself a smart one there, Dick. Excuse me. Oh, by the way, good luck.
Dick: Good luck to you, Pinkham. [both salute] You know, what a remarkable character.
Mary: Oh, yeah, he's good. I saw him last year in Man of La Mancha at Theater on the Pier.
Dick: A big game hunter and an actor? My god. He's a renaissance man.

Mrs. Runquist: Eames! You've been my butler for twenty years, you never remember to keep my wine glass full.
Tommy: You see how she bosses that guy around?
Sally: Yeah, and he's the best dressed guy here.
Tommy: What a wuss.
Sally: Mmm. Pathetic. Hey, Eames! More water, now!
Tommy: [British accent] And uh, could you clear this dirty plate, Eames?
Eames: Very well, sir.
Tommy: [scoffs] [mocks British accent] Very well, sir.

Inspector Macaffery: [Enters] Everybody stay exactly where you are. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. I am Inspector Macaffery from Scotland Yard.
Tommy: He got here quick.
Inspector Macaffery: No one is to leave the premises. Until further investigation, everyone is considered a suspect.
Dick: Everyone? Sh-sh-surely you don't mean everyone?
Inspector Macaffery: Given the right circumstances, anyone is capable of murder.
Dick: But not everyone.
Inspector Macaffery: Yes, everyone.
Dick: But not anyone.
Inspector Macaffery: Yes.

Sally: What are you, crazy? That woman's husband was just murdered, and you're trying to stick your tongue down her throat? Do you want to become the prime suspect?
Harry: Well, why would I be a suspect? It's obvious that hunter guy did it.
Dick: How dare you! My dear friend Colonel Pinkham is many things... longbow expert, marksman, knife and gun collector, actor... but he is no murderer.
Mary: [o.s.] [retches]
Dick: Oh, my poor Mary. Listen, let's not spoil Mary's "whodunit" weekend with news of this heinous murder.

Mary: Dick, you guys having fun?
All: Oh, yeah.
Dick: Darling, yes, we only wish that you could join in all the gaiety. How are you feeling?
Mary: I feel awful. I've been throwing up for hours. Did anyone else eat the prawns?
All: No.
Mary: Well, it must be food poisoning.
Dick: Oh, my god, Mary! You've been poisoned! Who has done this to you? [shakes her] Who? Who? Who? Who? Who? Who?!

Dick: That inspector is appallingly lackadaisical.
Sally: Look, maybe I'd better just call Don.
Dick: Yeah, we need some Rutherford blue on our side, but until then... And I know this might sound a bit unorthodox... I think we need to do some sleuthing on our own.
Sally: Are you saying that we should try to solve the murder ourselves?
Harry: At a party?
Dick: Exactly. Someone may have had the motive. Someone may have had the opportunity. My God, if they had both! I'd better go confer with my dear friend, the Colonel.