Mrs. Ritchey: Don't be sore big boy. Where are you going?

Mrs. Ritchey: I'm a dipsomaniac, and I'm proud of it, you mean.

Dr. Milton A. Ranger: The successful nurse is one who keeps her mouth shut.

Lora Hart: [into the phone] Operator! Operator! Operator!
[Nick hangs up the phone and knocks her unconcious]

Lora Hart: [to Dr. Bell] Oh, ethics... ethics... ethics! That's all I've heard. Isn't there any ethics about letting poor little babies be murdered?

Lora Hart: I'll call the Doctor.
Nick, the Chauffeur: Listen, you'll do what I tell you.
Lora Hart: What are you trying to do? What he did?
Nick, the Chauffeur: No, but you're not gonna call a Doctor. You're a nurse, you give her the works yourself.
Lora Hart: I can't, except under Doctor's orders.
Nick, the Chauffeur: Oh, yes you can, and what's more, you will.
[squeezes her wrist tightly]
Lora Hart: I can't very well with a broken wrist.
[picks up the phone]
Lora Hart: Operator, operator, get me a Doctor quick!
Nick, the Chauffeur: Hang up, or I'll break your neck.
Lora Hart: What right have you to?
Nick, the Chauffeur: Plenty.
Mrs. Ritchey: Oh, be quiet!
Nick, the Chauffeur: Ah, shut up!
Nick, the Chauffeur: Oh, don't be sore, Nicky, Kiss me.
Nick, the Chauffeur: [to Lora] Get busy.
Lora Hart: I tell you I can't without the proper authority.
Nick, the Chauffeur: I give you the authority.

Lora Hart: That looks like it's a bullet wound!
Mortie: Well, it's a cinch it's not a vaccination mark!

Lora Hart: Who are you?
Nick, the Chauffeur: I'm Nick... the chauffeur.