Sabrina Fairchild: Kiss me, David.
David Larrabee: Love to, Sabrina.
[kisses her]
Sabrina Fairchild: Again. That's better.
David Larrabee: What's the matter, dear? You're not worried about us, are you? Because I'm not. So there'll be a big stink in the family. So who cares?
Sabrina Fairchild: David... I don't want to see Linus again. I don't want to go out with him.
David Larrabee: Why not, darling?
Sabrina Fairchild: I want to be near you.
David Larrabee: Oh, I know how you feel Sabrina, it must be an awful bore. But if Linus wants to take you out, let's be nice about it. It's very important. He's our only ally. See, father will want to send me to Larrabee Copper in Butte, Montana, and we don't want to go Butte Montana, do we?
Sabrina Fairchild: Hold me close, David.
David Larrabee: We'll have a wonderful time, darling. We'll build a raft and sail on the Pacific Ocean, like Kon Tiki. Or climb the highest mountain like Annapurna.
Sabrina Fairchild: Keep talking, David. Keep talking.

Sabrina Fairchild: Maybe you should go to Paris, Linus. It helped me. Have you ever been there?
Linus Larrabee: [thinks] Oh yes. Once. For thirty-five minutes.
Sabrina Fairchild: Thirty-five *minutes*?
Linus Larrabee: Changing planes. I was on my way to Iraq on an oil deal.
Sabrina Fairchild: Oh, but Paris isn't for changing planes, it's for changing your outlook! For throwing open the windows and letting in... letting in la vie en rose.
Linus Larrabee: [sadly] Paris is for lovers. Maybe that's why I stayed only thirty-five minutes.

Sabrina: [writing to her father] I have learnt how to live... How to be In the world and Of the world, and not just to stand aside and watch. And I will never, never again run away from life. Or from love, either...

Oliver Larrabee: All columnists should be beaten to a pulp and converted back into paper!

Oliver Larrabee: I'm not saying that all Larrabees have been saints. Thomas Larrabee was hung for piracy. There was Benjamin Larrabee who was a slave trader. And there was my great-great uncle Joshua Larrabee who was shot while attempting to rob a train. But there was never a Larrabee who has behaved as you, David Larrabee, have behaved tonight!
David Larrabee: What have I done now, Father?

Oliver Larrabee: There must be a less extravagant way of getting a chauffeur's daughter out of one's hair.
Linus Larrabee: How would you do it? You can't even get a little olive out of a jar!

Baron St. Fontanel: A woman happily in love, she burns the soufflé. A woman unhappily in love, she forgets to turn on the oven.

David Larrabee: I thought you two had eloped! I wouldn't mind, but not in my car.

David Larrabee: I've been trying to write her a poem, but I can't seem to finish it. What rhymes with "glass"?
Linus Larrabee: Glass... Glass...
[snaps fingers]
Linus Larrabee: "Alas."

David Larrabee: It's all beginning to make sense. Mr.Tyson owns the sugarcane. You own the formula for the plastics. And I'm supposed to be offered up as a human sacrifice on the altar of the industrial progress. Is that it?
Linus Larrabee: You make it sound so vulgar, David, as if the son of hot dog dynasty were being offered in marriage to the daughter of the mustard king. Surely, surely you don't object to Elizabeth Tyson just because her father happens to have twenty million dollars? That's very narrow minded of you, David.