The Philadelphia Story1940

Mike:
The prettiest sight in this fine, pretty world is the privileged class enjoying its privileges.

Tracy:
You're a snob, Connor.

Mike:
No doubt, no doubt...Tracy. You can't marry that guy.

Tracy:
George? I'm going to. Why, why not?

Mike:
Well, I don't know. I thought I'd be for it at first, but you just don't seem to match up.

Tracy:
Then the fault's with me.

Mike:
Well, maybe so, but all the same now, you can't do it.

Tracy:
No?

Mike:
No.

Tracy:
Come around about noon tomorrow. I mean today. Snob.

Mike:
What do ya mean, snob?

Tracy:
You're the worst kind there is. An intellectual snob. You made up your mind awfully young, it seems to me.

Mike:
Well, thirty's about time to make up your mind. And I'm nothing of the sort, not Mr. Connor.

Tracy:
The time to make up your mind about people - is never.