The Apartment
1960
Doctor Dreyfuss: Be a mensch!
Fran Kubelik: Shall I light the candles? C.C. Baxter: It's a must! Gracious living-wise.
C.C. Baxter: The mirror... it's broken Fran Kubelik: Yes, I know. I like it that way. Makes me look the way I feel.
J.D. Sheldrake: Ya know, you see a girl a couple of times a week, just for laughs, and right away they think you're gonna divorce your wife. Now I ask you, is that fair? C.C. Baxter: No, sir, it's very unfair. Especially to your wife.
Fran Kubelik: When you're in love with a married man you shouldn't wear mascara.
C.C. Baxter: That's the way it crumbles... cookie-wise.
Fran Kubelik: I never catch colds. C.C. Baxter: Really. I was reading some figures from the Sickness and Accident Claims Division. You know that the average New Yorker between the ages of twenty and fifty has two and a half colds a year. Fran Kubelik: That makes me feel just terrible. C.C. Baxter: Why? Fran Kubelik: Well, to make the figures come out even, if I have no colds a year, some poor slob must have five colds a year. C.C. Baxter: (sheepishly) Yeah... it's me.
(last lines) C.C. Baxter: You hear what I said, Miss Kubelik? I absolutely adore you. Fran Kubelik: Shut up and deal.
C.C. Baxter: On November 1st, 1959, the population of New York City was 8,042,783. If you laid all these people end to end, figuring an average height of five feet six and a half inches, they would reach from Times Square to the outskirts of Karachi, Pakistan. I know facts like this because I work for an insurance company - Consolidated Life of New York. We're one of the top five companies in the country. Our home office has 31,259 employees, which is more than the entire population of uhh... Natchez, Mississippi. I work on the 19th floor. Ordinary Policy Department, Premium Accounting Division, Section W, desk number 861.
C.C. Baxter: Miss Kubelik, one doesn't get to be a second administrative assistant around here unless he's a pretty good judge of character, and as far as I'm concerned you're tops. I mean, decency-wise and otherwise-wise.
C.C. Baxter: Ya know, I used to live like Robinson Crusoe. I mean shipwrecked among 8 million people. And then one day I saw a footprint in the sand and there you were.
Fran Kubelik: Just because I wear a uniform doesn't make me a girl scout. (in a bar, trying to pick Bud up) Margie MacDougall: Night like this, it sorta spooks you, walking into an empty apartment. C.C. Baxter: I said I had no family; I didn't say I had an empty apartment.
Kirkeby: Say, why don't we have ourselves a party, the four of us? C.C. Baxter: No. (Kirkeby sees Ms Kubelik sleeping in the bedroom) Kirkeby: (laughs) Well, I don't blame ya. So you hit the jackpot, eh kid? I mean Kubelikwise. (Baxter pushes Kirkeby out of the door) Kirkeby: Now don't worry, I won't say a word to anybody. (Door almost shuts, Kirkeby pushes in one last time) Kirkeby: Stay with it, Buddy-Boy.
Kirkeby: Premium-wise and billing-wise, we are eighteen percent ahead of last year, October-wise.
Fran Kubelik: What's a tennis racket doing in the kitchen? C.C. Baxter: Tennis racket? Oh, I remember, I was cooking myself an Italian dinner. (Fran looks confused) C.C. Baxter: I use it to strain the spaghetti.
Fran Kubelik: He's a taker. C.C. Baxter: A what? Fran Kubelik: Some people take, some people get took. And they know they're getting took and there's nothing they can do about it.
Margie MacDougall: 'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring... nothin'... no action... dullsville!
Fran Kubelik: Would you mind opening the window? C.C. Baxter: Now don't go getting any ideas, Miss Kubelik. Fran Kubelik: I just want some fresh air. C.C. Baxter: It's only one story down. The best you can do is break a leg. Fran Kubelik: So they'll shoot me - like a horse. C.C. Baxter: Please, Miss Kubelik, you got to promise me you won't do anything foolish. Fran Kubelik: Who'd care? C.C. Baxter: I would. Fran Kubelik: Why can't I ever fall in love with someone nice like you?