Rebecca: Sam, I will never have Mr. Drake. I will never have any man. I will just dry up, crumble into dust and blow away.
Sam: Oh, come on. That doesn't sound like you. That sounds like some lovesick self-pitying, whiny... No, that's you all right.

Rebecca: I tried not to look, but the rearview mirror was just huge, and I couldn't help it. And then I got so upset, I just wrapped the company limo around a 7-Eleven.
Sam: Well, that is dreadful. Very, very, very sad.
Rebecca: [sighs] And then Evan and his cheap imitation Geisha bimbo whore grabbed a taxi. While I had to stand there and wait for a tow truck. Oh, and then this cop came along, and he asked me to see my chauffeur's license. God, if only I'd had one. Or if only I'd remembered to bring my purse with my own driver's license. Or if only I'd resisted arrest and he just shot me dead.

Sam: But I'm not gonna let you give up.
Rebecca: What do you care? What does anybody care?
Sam: Listen, I pride myself in being a connoisseur of beautiful babes, and I'll tell you. I'm not gonna sit by and watch a great woman like you going to waste. It's like, a- a thoroughbred pulling a milk wagon. It's like a rare wine... pulling a milk wagon.

Rebecca: I love you, Mr. Drake. There. I said it. I love you. I love you more than anyone I've ever loved in my whole life. I love you more than any woman's ever loved a man. Mr. Drake? Hello? [hits her head on the partition] Ow! Oh, God. [partition lowers]
Evan Drake: Rebecca? What are you doing up there? Where's Martin?
Rebecca: Uh, Martin got sick looking for your topcoat, sir, so I'll be driving you to the airport.
Evan Drake: I appreciate that, if it's not too much trouble.
Rebecca: Uh... Anyway, now that I've got you alone here, Mr. Drake, the real reason I'm filling in for Martin is so that I could tell you what I wanted to tell you all night. What I've been trying to tell you since the first time I met you. [horn honking] Get off my tail, scuzzball! Mr. Drake, with all my heart...
Evan Drake: Could you turn right at the next corner here, Rebecca? We have to pick up Christy.
Rebecca: Oh, yes, sir. Mr. Drake, with all my heart... Christy?
Evan Drake: Yes. She's the young lady who is accompanying me to Japan.
Rebecca: "Accompanying" in the modern sense of the word?
Evan Drake: Yeah, you might say so. She's a very special woman. Very up front. Aggressive, even. [chuckles] You know, the first time we met a few months ago, she was the one who actually asked me out. God, that's refreshing.
Rebecca: Mm-hmm. Ah.
Evan Drake: Anyway you wanted to ask me something?
Rebecca: Oh, yes, sir. I just wanted to tell you that... that this is really a lot of car to handle. I can't believe I have the strength to keep from swerving into the oncoming traffic and killing us both.

Sam: Oh, dear. Martin seems to be locked in the closet there. Does anyone know how to drive a limo around here?
Woody: Well, I've driven a tractor. It can't be that different.
Sam: No, Woody, when I said anyone, I meant Rebecca.
Woody: Well, in the future, Sam, you might try using a little something that's popular back in Indiana called "direct address."
Sam: I'm- I'm sorry.

Evan Drake: Oh, thank you. Thank you, Woody. Damn. I changed all my American money into yen. I don't have a tip for you. I'm sorry, Woody.
Woody: Oh, that's okay, Mr. Drake. I don't need a tip from you.
Evan Drake: Okay.
Woody: [to himself] Cheap, cheap, cheap.
Rebecca: Mr. Drake, as I was about to tell you-
Evan Drake: Hey, hold on, hold on Woody. Woody, come here a second. I've got these company courtside tickets to the Celtics-Lakers game. Will you take those in lieu of a tip? Huh?
Woody: Yes, sir. I- I hope you'll forget about that cheap crack.
Evan Drake: What cheap crack?
Woody: You're a prince.

Rebecca: You wanted to talk to me, Mr. Drake?
Evan Drake: Yes, yes, yes, I do, Rebecca. Let's sit down here, okay? Thank you. Well, this conversation is long overdue.
Rebecca: I couldn't agree more, with all my heart.
Evan Drake: You don't know what I'm going to say.
Rebecca: Oh well, I agree again.
Evan Drake: Something... Something very exciting is happening to me. It's going to change my whole life. It's a huge risk.
Rebecca: Take it! Take it!
Evan Drake: I'm moving to Tokyo. I'm going to take over the Japanese division. I leave tonight.
Rebecca: Yes, darling, yes! [groans and faints]
Sam: I told her to take that outside.

Rebecca: I don't believe it. Everything was going so well. Then everything went so black.
Sam: Oh, don't worry about it. Women faint all the time. Well, in cartoons, they do.
Rebecca: Do you think he noticed?
Sam: Yes, yes, I- I think he did. He, uh, he said that every time he sees you, you do something more bizarre than the time before.
Rebecca: What did you say?
Sam: Well, honey, I had to agree.

Rebecca: What? What? What?
Carla: Look, look, look, I wouldn't have butted in, but I know that tonight is your last chance to tell the boss you got a case of the screaming thigh sweats for him.
Rebecca: How did you know that?
Carla: Woody put out a special edition of the newsletter.
Rebecca: Why didn't I just write it on the bathroom wall?
Carla: I'm way ahead of you. Anyway, look, I've been down this road a few times myself, and take it from a pro, there is one thing you always have to do before you tell a guy you love him.
Rebecca: What's that?
Carla: Lose the mustache. [hands Rebecca a razor]

Cliff: These are some USDA, uh, prime tickets here. So, uh, who's going with you?
Woody: Oh, gee, I don't know.
Norm: Well, I think the obvious choice would be me, Woody. I mean, Cliff here is always making fun that, uh, you're a yokel. Whereas, I completely ignore the fact that you're a yokel.