The Last of Sheila

Lee:
Who did this room? Parker Brothers?

Christine:
Give me a glass of water and a couple of lesbians.

Lee:
I'm trying to hold on to a husband, who's trying to hold on.

Christine:
With your money?

Lee:
I didn't know you were coming.

Christine:
You're happy I can tell.

Lee:
I'm delighted. Clinton can take his frustrations out on you.

Christine:
All I know are two words, scuzi and pronto.

Lee:
Pronto will be enough.

Lee:
It was an accident! It was an accident, I swear Clinton! I was DRINKING !

Christine:
Just enough time to get dressed as a Catamite, if I knew what it was.

Lee:
You were always so sweet to me, at Daddy's legendary Sunday lunches.

Philip:
I can still see you sitting on Olivia DeHavilland's lap.

Tom:
Did you smoke then?

Lee:
I don't know. I can't remember.

Tom:
Surely not in the priest's box?

Lee:
No, of course not.

Christine:
C'mon Lee, between the two of us we can knock this off.

Lee:
Jesus!

Christine:
Honestly, I can speak a little frog.

Christine:
[while suntanning] I have to do 25 minutes on my stomach.

Alice:
To make up for the 25 minutes you spent on your back, last night?

Philip:
The last of Sheila should be an A. Hit and run doesn't begin with an A, does it, Tom?

Tom:
I don't have any gloves.

Clinton Green:
Sheila. Sheila, come on back!

Christine:
[Talking on the phone] I loved your wire and I can't wait to see you, really. I mean, I've lost 50 pounds. I'm a hollow reed. Kiss. Kiss.

Christine:
What do you mean, what do I mean? This is the same b-group that was at your house the night Sheila got bounced to the hedges.

Philip:
Darling, I must hang up now. One of my cast is peeing on my leg. Something Garbo never did, even in her moodiest. Bye now.

Christine:
What a game! And now, Tom gets to write it; Philip gets to direct it; and what's-her-face, I mean, eh, my new client, Miss Alice Wood, gets to thrill you as Sheila Green. Who rose from call girl to columnist... Ha-ha-ha.

Clinton Green:
Well, I'm thinking of calling it; don't be shocked, now; "The Last of Sheila". Fox is interested, Paramount's interested. The perfect woman's picture. Ever as big as "Love Story".

Lee:
Do you think we'll ever hear the last of Sheila?

Christine:
There's nothing worst than a hustler with bad timing.

Christine:
Honey, would you drop me down a Tab? My mouth is so dry, I feel like they could shot "Lawrence of Arabia" in it.

Lee:
Do you think there's a homosexual aboard the yacht?

Tom:
It was more than a game. It was a private joke.

Philip:
Nothing makes any - sense. Something Clinton said, keeps rattling around in the back of my head, if I could remember it.

Philip:
Well, I think I'll turn in. I'm almost dead on my feet. So much to do tomorrow and still a few pages to type tonight.

Philip:
In these perilous times, one can't be too careful.

Christine:
Honey, let me hit you with a couple of names. Yul Brynner is Clinton. Paul and Joanne as Tom and Lee! I know, I hope it has enough content for 'em. Who have I got for Alice? Oh, I know, Carly Simon. I mean the soundtrack album alone will pay for her clothes. Now, now don't scream. Virna Lisi. No, darling, as me!

Christine:
Dictate it tomorrow when you can get a secretary. You know, he killed her, she killed him.

Christine:
Anyhow, as I was saying, they shoot you full of these rhino tranqs and then they wrap you in these hot sheets. You wake up five days later about 30 pounds thinner - and screaming for hot turkey sandwiches. I mean, it's... Hey, are you listening to me?

Lee:
Kind of...

Christine:
I'm here because I've got a client to keep, and one to get. What's your excuse?

Lee:
I'm trying to hold on to a husband... who's trying to hold on.

Christine:
With your money?

Clinton Green:
[Gesturing to a small island not too far from his yacht] You like it?

Clinton Green:
[They all look, while Clinton beams proudly] I love it. Tiny, tiny islands fascinate my ass. I've got this crazy broker in London that sends me these brochures on all the islands for sale all over the world. Little impoverished islands. A few thousand dollars cash, and you're practically king to six shepherds and their families. Or whatever. I read every word on every island. Then you know what I do? I tear them neatly in half and drop them in the wastebasket. Then I say to myself...

Christine:
[interrupting] I'm still weak, Clinton, but I'm eating solid food.

Clinton Green:
I say to myself, "If there's one thing I hate, it's to have my island speech interrupted."

Clinton Green:
[continues] I say to myself: "No, you poor people... you don't deserve a good king like me." That's what I say!

Clinton:
Don’t you know not to have those egg beaters going when we’re ditching around out here?!