Ringo: [arrested, at the police station] I demand to see my solicitor!
Police Inspector: What's his name?
Ringo: Well, if you're gonna get technical about it...

Ringo: [George runs into Ringo in the hallway] Hey, do you know what happened to me?
George: No, I don't.
[Ringo walks on]

Ringo: [laughing happily after winning a card game with his bandmates and getting the won cards] Ahahaha! All mine!
George: He's wearing his lucky rings.

Ringo: [referring to half-dressed room service waiter hiding in the wardrobe] Any of you lot put a man in the cupboard?
George: Nah!
Paul: Don't be soft!
Ringo: Well, someone did.
George: [George gets up, walks over, looks in the cupboard, then sits back down]
George: He's right, you know
John: There you go.

Ringo: Come in, number seven, your time's up!

Ringo: Funny, really, 'cause I'd never thought of it, but being middle-aged and old takes up most of your time, doesn't it?
Grandfather: You're only right.

Ringo: I don't snore.
George: You do, repeatedly.
Ringo: Do I snore, John?
John: Yeah, you're a window-rattler, son.
Ringo: That's just your opinion. Do I snore, Paul?
Paul: With a trombone hooter like yours, it would be unnatural if you didn't.
Grandfather: Now, Paulie... don't mock the afflicted.
Paul: Ah, come off it, it's only a joke!
Grandfather: Aye, it may be a joke to you, but it's his nose. He can't help having a hideous great hooter! And his poor little head, trembling under the weight of it!

Ringo: I'm going out parading before it's too late!

Ringo: It's the Circle Club.
Paul: [reads aloud the invite] "The management of the Circle Club takes pleasure in requesting the company of Mr. Richard Starkey - that's you - to their gaming rooms. Chemin de Fer, Baccarat, and Champagne buffet".
Ringo: They want me.
John: It's kinda randy. A big spender.
Norm: [snatches the card from Paul] Well, you're not going.
Ringo: Aww!
Grandfather: [snatches the card from Norm] Quite right. Invites to gambling dens full of easy money and fast women. Chicken sandwiches and carts full of caviar. Disgusting!
Ringo: That's mine!

Ringo: There you go, hiding behind a smokescreen of bourgeois cliches.