Mary: Hi, Dick.
Dick: Hello, Mary, Judith. I- I'm just waiting here for my friend.
Mary: Well, I hope they get here soon. They're going to close the doors in 5 minutes.
Judith: Bear in mind, no one will be seated once Peter Connelly's shirt comes off.

Judith: Oh! You call that a hit? Put some shoulder in it! I used to play rugby.

Dick: So I'm racking my brain. What's a fresh, fun new way to raise $10,000? Something crazy, but makes perfect sense all at once. And I'm walking by Fashions by Pepe, and it hits me like a cape to the throat: fashion show.
Judith: A fashion show?
Dick: Hot Winter Nights. That's the theme.
Strudwick: For the... fashion show?
Dick: Yeah. Now help me out. Ticket prices. I was thinking $50 for seats by the runway. You know, for the Mickey Rourke types.
Judith: I wish I was going to be in town that weekend. When is it?

Strudwick: Still... what a night.
Judith: The gala event of the season.
Dick: This?! 12 professor's wives trudging down a makeshift runway in poly blends and support hose?!
Judith: The rumaki was delicious.

[With his hands tied behind his back, his legs strapped to a chair and a bandana tied around his mouth, Dick hops out of the bedroom and over to the telephone, which he dials with his nose]
Judith: I'll get it. [answers phone] Mary Albright's office.
Dick: Mmmph!
Judith: Oh, yeah.
Dick: Mmphmmphh!
Judith: Oh, baby.
Dick: Mmmphhgghh!
Judith: I'm hot now.
Dick: Mmphhhgh!
Judith: Do me.
Dick: Mmmphh!
Judith: Do me all night.
Dick: Aahmmphhh!
Judith: I know it's you, Dick. [hangs up]
Dick: [muffled] Damn!

Mary: That was Dick?
Judith: Yes, with his typical sick, pathetic cry for attention.
Mary: Oh, God, it is his birthday, and his party was canceled. I think I'm just gonna bring his present on over there.
Judith: I'll go with you. I want to see the look on his face when I tell him I didn't get him anything.

Charlotte Everly: Let's move it! Grab your glass! I don't have all day. I think you'll like this. It's a very good year.
Judith: I'm afraid I don't like red wine. I love it. [laughs]
Charlotte Everly: [to Ned] Pour hers first.
Judith: Don't we need a toast?
Charlotte Everly: All right. Here's a toast to happy birthdays.
All: Happy birthdays!
Nina: Hmm. What's that aftertaste? [Nina, Leon and Judith collapse]

Judith: It's official. This is the worst party I've ever been to.

Mary: Good morning.
Judith: Mary, I thought your kind didn't venture out in daylight.
Mary: Well, if my cape is too hip for the room, maybe I'll just take it off.

Judith: Mary, do I look like a queen in a sailor's dream?
Mary: You got the tickets!
Dick: Tickets?
Judith: Tenth row. You and I and an evening with woodsy balladeer Gordon Lightfoot.
Mary: Yee!
Dick: It's an exciting day for us all. Anybody up for a dumb-ass Bob Hope movie?
Mary: Oh, thank you for doing this, Judith.
Judith: Well, Mary, if anyone digs Lightfoot as hard as I do, it's Mary Albright.