Woody: Well, it's probably best you didn't come last night. I've still got to iron out a few bugs.
Cliff: Well, all I can tell you, Woody, is that Ma loved the play. Yeah, I mean, there's something about the idea of sweet old ladies being cold-blooded murderesses. Just seemed to tickle her funny bone. [laughs] All the way home she just laughed and laughed. Matter of fact, I woke up at 3:00 a.m., and there she was sitting in my room in a rocking chair rocking back and forth, staring at me and making this low, guttural chuckle. Boy, does she love the theater.

Carla: Whoa! I'm gonna be a psychic! Who could have predicted that?

Rebecca: Woody, you opened last night in Arsenic and Old Lace. Why didn't you tell me so I could go?
Woody: I did tell you, Miss Howe. I told you dozens of times and I sent you an invitation with a cute, little cartoon of me drawn on it. You said you were going to be there and I reserved a seat for you in the front row.
Rebecca: Oh! Then I was sick.
Woody: Oh, I'm sorry. Are you feeling better?
Rebecca: Hmm, so-so.