Macaulay Connor: Look, who's doing the interviewing here?
Elizabeth (Liz) Imbrie: Do you think she caught on somehow?
Macaulay Connor: No, she was born like that, don't let her throw you.
Elizabeth (Liz) Imbrie: Do you want to take over?
Macaulay Connor: I want to go home!

Macaulay Connor: My father was a history teacher.
Tracy Lord: English history has always fascinated me. Robin Hood, Cromwell, Jack the Ripper. Where did he teach? Your father I mean.

Macaulay Connor: Oh Tracy darling...
Tracy Lord: Mike...
Macaulay Connor: What can I say to you? Tell me darling.
Tracy Lord: Not anything - don't say anything. And especially not "darling."

Macaulay Connor: Tell four footmen to call me in time for lunch will you?

Macaulay Connor: The prettiest sight in this fine pretty world is the privileged class enjoying its privileges.

Macaulay Connor: This is the Bridal Suite. Would you send up a couple of caviar sandwiches and a bottle of beer?
Margaret Lord: What? Who is this?
Macaulay Connor: This is the Voice of Doom calling. Your days are numbered, to the seventh son of the seventh son.
Margaret Lord: Hello? Hello?
Tracy Lord: What's the matter?
Margaret Lord: One of the servants has been at the sherry again.

Macaulay Connor: Tracy.
Tracy Lord: What do you want?
Macaulay Connor: You're wonderful. There's a magnificence in you, Tracy.
Tracy Lord: Now I'm getting self-conscious. It's funny. I - Mike? Let's...
Macaulay Connor: Yeah?
Tracy Lord: I don't know - go up, I guess, it's late.
Macaulay Connor: A magnificence that comes out of your eyes, in your voice, in the way you stand there, in the way you walk. You're lit from within, Tracy. You've got fires banked down in you, hearth-fires and holocausts.
Tracy Lord: I don't seem to you made of bronze?
Macaulay Connor: No, you're made out of flesh and blood. That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl, Tracy. Full of life and warmth and delight. What goes on? You've got tears in your eyes.
Tracy Lord: Shut up, shut up. Oh, Mike. Keep talking, keep talking. Talk, will you?

Macaulay Connor: You've got all the arrogance of your class, haven't you?
Tracy Lord: What have classes to do with it? What do they matter except for the people in them? George comes from the so-called lower class, Dexter, the upper. Well?
Macaulay Connor: Well...
Tracy Lord: Mac the night watchman is a prince among men, Uncle Willie is a... pincher. Upper and lower my eye. I'll take the lower, thanks.
Macaulay Connor: If you can't get a drawing room.
Tracy Lord: What does that mean?
Macaulay Connor: My mistake.
Tracy Lord: Decidedly. You're insulting!
Macaulay Connor: Sorry.
Tracy Lord: Oh, don't apologize!
Macaulay Connor: Well, who's apologizing?
Tracy Lord: I never knew such a man.
Macaulay Connor: You wouldn't be likely to, from where you sit!
Tracy Lord: Talk about arrogance.
Macaulay Connor: Tracy.
Tracy Lord: What do you want?
Macaulay Connor: [pause] You're wonderful.

Tracy Lord: [a very drunk Tracy] My feet are made of clay. Made of clay, did you know? Good niiiggghhhttt little man!

Tracy Lord: [normal voice] Hello, Dexter.
[lower voice]
Tracy Lord: Hello, George.
[high childish voice]
Tracy Lord: Hello, Mike.