Nick: [to Honey] We'll go in a little while.
George: Oh no. No, you mustn't. Martha is changing, and Martha is not changing for me, Martha hasn't changed for me in years. If Martha is changing, that means we're going to be here for days. You're being accorded an honor, and you mustn't forget that Martha is the daughter of our beloved boss. She is his right... arm. I was going to use another word, but we'll leave that sort of talk to Martha.

Nick: I'm tired, I've been drinking since nine o'clock, my wife is vomiting, there's been a lot of screaming going on around here!

Nick: To you, everybody's a flop. Your husband's a flop, I'm a flop.
Martha: You're all flops. I am the Earth Mother, and you are all flops.

Nick: Who did the painting?
George: Some Greek with a moustache that Martha attacked one night.

Nick: Who did the painting?
George: Some Greek with a mustache Martha attacked one night.
Nick: It's got a...
George: Quiet intensity?
Nick: Well, no, a...
George: Well then, a certain noisy relaxed quality maybe?
Nick: No, what I meant was...
George: How about a quietly noisy relaxed intensity?

[George takes a corner far too fast, tossing everyone in the car from side to side. Pause]
Martha: Aren't you going to apologize?
George: Not my fault, the road should've been straight.
Martha: No, aren't you going to apologize for making Honey throw up?
George: I didn't make her throw up.
Martha: What, you think it was sexy back there? You think he made his own wife sick?
George: Well, you make me sick.
Martha: That's different.

[Martha has changed into an embarrassingly tight and revealing outfit]
George: Why Martha! Your Sunday chapel dress!