Itchy Itchiford: Charlie, let me think about this.
Charlie: No! Don't think! From now on, I'll do the thinking.
Charlie: All we need now is a couple of bucks.
Itchy Itchiford: A couple of bucks, a couple of bucks.
Anne-Marie: A couple, a couple. Mmm, yeah! A mom and dad.
Charlie: Yeah, sure.
Charlie: That Carface has something up his sleeve.
Itchy Itchiford: Yeah, a gun.
Charlie: And when I find out what it is, I'm going to ruin him.
Itchy Itchiford: Yah! Someone's got me by the tail.
Charlie: I got you by the tail.
Itchy Itchiford: Why don't you tell somebody you're gonna do that?
Charlie: You know, it's not worth it being with you. It's not.
Itchy Itchiford: Your hands are cold, too.
Itchy Itchiford: In him there's the luck of the Irish.
Charlie: The pride of the German.
Itchy Itchiford: Even, he-he, a bit of Siam.
Charlie: Siam? There's the calm of the English.
Itchy Itchiford: The charm of the Spanish.
Charlie: A pedigree certainly ain't what I am. So call me a mixed-up pup.
Itchy Itchiford: You're a mixed-up pup.
Charlie: But the only way this pup knows is up.
Itchy Itchiford: I can't help it, Charlie, I always itch when I'm nervous.
Charlie: Well don't be nervous.
Itchy Itchiford: Just scratch this.
Don Canneloni: In the past, the Canneloni family was the most powerful of the families. We controlled drugs, prostitution, extortion, prostitution, gambling.
Slim: Uh, you said 'prostitution' twice.
Don Canneloni: Well, I like it.
Don Canneloni: And now, the Rigatonis, the Tortellinis, the Fettuchinis, and even the Raviolis are bigger than we are. And why?
Tony: High interest rates.
Sonny: Acid rain.
Slim: Japanese imports.
Caesar: Uh... uh... none of the above.
Don Canneloni: No. No. No. Youse mugs already know the answer.
Caesar: Gee, boss, if I knew there was gonna be a test, I would've studied.
The Looking Glass: Snow White approaches a trap set by Lord Malice. But in the fog she isn't gonna find the palace! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Lord Malice: You are insolent! But you have a point.
Jeremy: Well, uh, let me explain! Oh, what a lovely hat you're wearing.
Auntie Shrew: Don't you sweet-talk me.
Jeremy: Nice evening, huh? I told you you'd love flying.
Mrs. Brisby: I don't know how I let you talk me into this.
Mrs. Brisby: If you're going to feather a nest, you've got a lot to learn about how to treat a lady.
Jeremy: Right. When you're right, you're right, and you're right. None of the girls I meet wanna get serious.
Mrs. Brisby: I doubt they'd survive.
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