The Whole Town's Talking

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
You know something, a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
[to his co-workers] So long, slaves!

Miss Clark:
[referring to Jones] I always told you that rabbit had something.

Miss Clark:
Now, that's my idea of a boy friend. He-man plus. If I only knew where he was!

'Slugs' Martin:
Hello Mannion.

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
My name is Jones.

'Slugs' Martin:
I guess mine is Mickey Mouse!

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
My name isn't Jones it's Mannion. I mean it isn't Jannion it's Mones. Oh, I don't know. It's Jones! Jones, that's what it is!

Miss Clark:
Well, what do you think of that? Well, I guess the jig's up.

Detective Sergeant Boyle:
Sure it is. But, not for you kid, not if you wanna play ball.

Miss Clark:
Imagine that heel squealing.

Miss Clark:
Hi ya, Front Page!

Miss Clark:
You're becoming famous. Three of my girl friends asked me to get pictures of you. I told them the kind of a caveman you were. I can feel that kiss yet.

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
Oh, I-i, I want to apologize for that Miss Clark.

Miss Clark:
What for? If it takes a few swigs to bring out that personality of yours, I'll buy you a case of Scotch.

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
Oh, it wasn't the drinks. Something came over me and I just couldn't help it.

Miss Clark:
I'm glad you couldn't.

Miss Clark:
Jonesy, you sure are going places! Just think of it, an invitation to the boss' shack.

Miss Clark:
Jonesy, you need a caretaker and I think I'm elected.

Miss Clark:
Say, you can get enough out of this to take that trip to Shanghai.

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
[Drunkenly] Hi, Cymbeline! Say, you know what? You know we've all misjudged J.G. Oh, he's a great man, Cymbeline. Heart of gold. Proud to work for ol' J.G. I'd die for J.G. I'd die for J.G.'s company. I'd die for you. [Kisses Miss. Clark] Whoopie!

"Killer" Mannion:
Just as I'm startin' for the gate, by this time, the typewriters up on the wall are cutting loose, cracking away and the air is as thick as dust with machine gun bullets.

Miss Clark:
By the way, Healy was in to see you. I made a deal for you. He screamed murder, at first, but finally we got together. Listen to this, two hundred and fifty bucks a week! I guess that trip to Shanghai's a cinch now, Jonesy. Here's the contract. I told him I'd get you to sign it tonight.

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
Oh, thank you.

Miss Clark:
Oh, don't mention it. Always glad to serve a Public Enemy. Ah, what do you say we go up to your room and read it over?

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
Alright. Oh, no-no, no, not upstairs.

Miss Clark:
Why not?

Arthur Ferguson Jones:
Well, the, eh, the landlady's very strict about it.

Miss Clark:
[Seductively] P-lease, Mr. Jones. You can leave a door open.

Healy:
Who's been helping him write those stories?

Miss Clark:
What do you mean, who's been helping him?

Healy:
Where does a squirt like Jones get off writing all that juicy underworld lingo?

Miss Clark:
From me, of course.

Healy:
You certainly have horned in yourself properly, haven't you!

Miss Clark:
And now, Mr. Jones, prepare yourself for the thrill of a lifetime. Your first paycheck! As an author, I mean. The magic carpet which will carry you to Shanghai and eternal ecstasy.

Russell - Prison Official:
But, if you ask me, there's something queer about the whole business.

'Slugs' Martin:
I never had any use for that coked-up rat!