Ricky: Fred, I've got an awful problem on my hands.
Ethel: What are you writing about? Lucy: I'm writing about things I know.
Ethel: Imagine - me, meeting the Queen face to face. I'm scared!
Ethel: Gee, this high altitude sure gives me an appetite.
Ricky: What do you know about rice?
Lucy: If some other woman were to take Fred away from you, you'd be singing a different tune, too.
Ethel: Hey Lucy, the chickens are talking about Fred.
Lucy: Butter? What do you want butter for? Ricky: I wanted to put some on my bread. Lucy: Butter? On bread?
Lucy: It's my mad money. Ricky: There's over $200 here.
Lucy: I'm your Vitameatavegamin girl! Are you tired, run-down, listless? Do you poop out at parties?
Ricky: Everybody knows you can get around a lady with a little sweet talk.
Lucy: Ethel and I are going dancing at the Copa.
Lucy: Hey, Ethel. Guess what Ricky got me! Ethel: Um... A hat? A new dress? Lucy: Oh Ethel, better! Think about what every woman wants from her husband!
Ricky: I need a copy of the marriage license for Lucille MacGillicudy. M-A-C... Gillicudy. Right, and Ricardo Ricardo y Acha. Acha. Acha.
Ethel: Fred, I'm sorry I said you were a dumb bunny.
Ricky: This whole thing is my fault. Something I said that started this whole mess. Lucy: What's that?
Lucy: How would you feel if Fred was smoldering with jealousy?
Ricky: We can't afford it.
Lucy: I was, uh... bird-watching! Ricky: Bird-watching? Lucy: Uh, yeah! Do you know that there's a yellow-bellied woodpecker on our lawn?
Fred: What do you need a new lamp for? Abe Lincoln read by candlelight.
Fred: Let's just hope for the best. Lucy: Don't worry, Fred. Ethel'll come back.
Fred: She said my mother looks like a weasel. Lucy: Ethel, apologize.
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