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Kip: Lawyers should never marry other lawyers. This is called in-breeding; from this comes idiot children and more lawyers.
Amanda: Now, you look here, Kip. I’m fighting my prejudices, but it’s clear that you’re behaving like a, like a–well, I’d hate to put it this way–like a man.
Kip: You watch your language!
Kip: Well, good luck tomorrow, Amanda. I’m on your side, I guess you know that. You’ve got me so convinced, I may even go out and become a woman. Goodnight. [leaves]
Adam: And he wouldn’t have far to go, either.
Amanda: Shh!
Adam: What’s a matter?
Kip: [steps back into the kitchen and whispers] He can hear you.
Amanda: And after you shot your husband… how did you feel?
Doris: Hungry!
Adam: [takes a bite out of his fake gun] Licorice. If there’s anything I’m a sucker for, it’s licorice.
Beryl: She tried to shoot me.
Adam: How do you know that?
Beryl: Because she did it.
Adam: No matter what you think you think, you think the same as I think.
Amanda: And when did you stop loving your wife? Tell the truth.
Warren: At least 3 years.
Amanda: Why? Tell the truth.
Warren: She started getting too fat.
Amanda: Did you tell her about that?
Warren: Yes.
Amanda: What happened?
Warren: She got fatter.
Adam: Why did you marry her?
Warren: How should I know? Who knows? Why’d you marry yours? Does anybody know?
Amanda: What I said was true, there’s no difference between the sexes. Men, women, the same.
Adam: They are, huh?
Amanda: Well, maybe there is a difference, but it’s a little difference.
Adam: Well, you know as the French say…
Amanda: What do they say?
Adam: Vive la Difference!
Amanda: Which means?
Adam: Which means hooray for that little difference.
Beryl: And then I heard a noise.
Adam: What kind of noise?
Beryl: Like a sound.
Adam: What’s the matter? Don’t you want your rubdown? What? What are ya, sore about a little slap?
Amanda: No.
Adam: Well, what then?
Amanda: You meant that, didn’t you? You really meant that.
Adam: Why, no, I…
Amanda: Yes, you did. I can tell. I know your type. I know a slap from a slug.
Adam: Well, OK, OK… .
Amanda: I’m not so sure it is. I’m not so sure I care to–expose myself to typical instinctive masculine brutality.
Adam: Oh, come now.
Amanda: And it felt not only as though you meant it, but as though you felt you had a right to. I can tell.
Adam: What’ve you got back there? Radar equipment?
Amanda: Nobody died in the evening paper, isn’t that nice?
Kip: What have you been eating, raspberry jam or Amanda’s face?
Amanda: [addressing the court] For years, women have been ridiculed, pampered, chucked under the chin. I ask you, on behalf of us all, be fair to the fair sex.
Adam: We’ll be here a year.