Murder, She Wrote, Season 2

Jessica:
[Posing as a rich spoiled widow] My wire specified your largest finest suite.

Desk Clerk:
I'm afraid, madam, that the King Louie is already occupied but I'm sure you'll find the Bonaparte quite acceptable.

Jessica:
Young woman, I have never found that little Corsican even barely tolerable.

Myrna Montclair LeRoy:
Well, I do hope you enjoy your stay.

Jessica:
I'm sure I will, Ms. Montclair, or it will be a short one.

Chief Inspector Claude Rensselaer:
Madame, do you realize that your assumed identity and all this gaudy jewelry makes you a target for the thief?

Jessica:
Well, I certainly hope so.

Jessica:
It's a pity you're so shy.

Michael Hagarty:
God cursed me with a natural gift of the gab and an unnatural interest in my fellow man.

Sheldon Greenberg:
I've been thinking about what you said about Eric Brahm.

Chief Inspector Rensselaer:
Your employer?

Sheldon:
Hey, my loyalty stops at two dead bodies.

Michael Hagarty:
You know, I'm a bit annoyed with you.

Jessica:
That's nothing compared to what I feel for you, Mr. Hagarty. You gave me a very nasty scare earlier today and now I feel merely angry.

Michael:
But no longer frightened. That makes you either very brave or very foolish.

Myrna:
Eric had nothing with those murders!

Eric Brahm:
Myrna, be quiet.

Myrna:
So you can be crucified on the cross of innuendo? My god, the whispers can be heard clear to the States.

Michael:
What's this I've always heard about crusty New Englanders?

Jessica:
It's just a rumor started by our forefathers to keep out the tourists.

Michael:
I see. And if someday I should show up at your doorstep?

Jessica:
An exception might be made.

Michael:
Then in that case, the question is no longer if but when.

Harry Pierce:
This isn't some bird sanctuary that you're trying to save. This could get ugly.

David Marsh:
It already has.

Del Scott:
I'm here covering Henderson Wheatley's latest controversial enterprise. I would like your opinion

Jessica:
My opinion? Why?

Del:
You're Cabot Cove's most famous citizen.

Jessica:
For my books, not my opinions.

Henderson Wheatley:
What kind of a jerkwater town is this?

Jessica:
A town that knows how to take care of itself, Mr. Wheatley.

Sheriff Tupper:
David, you have the right to remain silent.

Jessica:
And I think that would be a good idea.

FBI Agt. Fred Keller:
A man must be pretty special to have people willing to stand up before an agent of the United States Department of Justice and each one willing to risk charges of perjury, obstruction of justice and harboring a fugitive. Not many men have friends like that.

Herbert Upton:
A woman is ne'er a woman 'til time does line her face,

For it's time that gives her beauty and charm and quiet grace.

Bibi Hartman:
Robert Burns.

Herbert:
Herbert Upton.

Julian Tenley:
C'mon now, you two. Don't let a long day and frazzled nerves make you say things that you don't really mean.

Joyce Holleran:
Julian, if you don't mind-

Julian:
Anger left standing only festers.

Lt. Antonelli:
Mrs. Fletcher, let me be frank. Your kind of writing is not my kind of reading.

Jessica:
Well, Lieutenant, let me be even franker. Anyone who is capable of imagining that my niece can commit murder is being grossly overpaid for taking up valuable space in this office.

Jessica:
Look, lieutenant. We're both looking for the same thing. Cooperation is the only way!

Lt. Antonelli:
I've stopped looking.

Beryl Hayward:
Jessica, I am so looking forward to hearing your commencement address.

Jessica:
Well, I'm still rewriting. Books are easy compared to speeches.

Daphne Clover:
You remember Nick, mother?

Dr. Jocelyn Laird:
I'm afraid I do.

Dr. Jocelyn:
Daphne, I don't want to be rude.

Daphne Clover:
But you're going to try.

Daphne:
Art is where it's at. My business manager just bought me a few impressionists. You know what they say: "Keep your money where you can see it", right? I hear Picasso is really hot.

Jessica:
Well, his pictures may be hot but I hear that Picasso is dead.

Jessica:
Chief, excuse me, but I'm not sure-

Police Chief E. Griffin:
I am, Mrs. Fletcher.

Dr. Jocelyn Laird:
Do you know how much I made for that Walt Whitman biography? Barely enough to pay for a second-hand car. Then I heard how much one of those trash merchants were paid recently. Sordid sex, that's what they wanted. And I was a proper pauper in the literary world while hacks with a third-rate vocabulary were living like royalty!

Oliver Trumbull:
A bloke never gets in trouble chasing women. It's after they're caught the trouble begins.

Emma McGill:
You know, if this weather weren't so ghastly, I think we'd have done much better.

Bridget O'Hara:
Right. That and have the powerman black out the telly.

Emma:
Oh, for pity's sake! Television can't compare with the sort of live entertainment that we provide.

Bridget:
Well, you're right about that. But nothing goes on forever. Even ol' Queen Victoria found that out, she did.

Emma:
If you're hinting that I should retire-

Bridget:
Oh, no, ma'am. I've passed by hinting around six years ago.

Jessica:
Emma, you've set me up.

Emma:
Oh, no, luv! I've merely put you in a position to learn something.

Bridget:
His wife, Violet? Now there's one who would make Lady Macbeth seem like a flower girl.

Francesca Lodge:
I thought I was alone. I heard noises. I guess I overreacted.

Jessica:
That's enough to frighten anyone. Believe me, I'm an expert on the subject. In my books, of course.

[Sheriff Bodine has learned that a murder was done due to drugs and not mechanical trouble]

Sheriff Bodine:
You know I got grease all over my best uniform?

Jessica:
It could have been the brake line.

Sheriff Bodine:
That's all right, ma'am. If it wasn't for you, we could still be saying it was nothing but an accident.

Jessica:
Margaret, did you clear away the cocktail things yesterday?

Margaret:
Yes. Are the glasses clean?

Jessica:
Yes, they're absolutely spotless. But this is a new unopened bottle.

Margaret:
Yes, ma'am.

Jessica:
But when Mr. Lodge made the drinks yesterday, he opened a new bottle and there should be a good part of that one left.

Margaret:
In all my years, I've never been accused of dipping into the household liquor!

Jessica:
No, that isn't what I meant.

Margaret:
I know what you meant, ma'am! But if you're looking for somebody with a dry mouth and a shifty eye, you should talk to that no-account gardener Carl.

Jessica:
No, you misunderstood. What I'm saying is that the gin in that bottle could be very dangerous.

Margaret:
You can say that again. It was gin that carried off my brother Arnold, may he rest in peace. That's why I never touch the stuff.

Jessica:
What is it about a death that makes people have second thoughts about what they've written down on paper?

Jessica:
Well, at least keep an open mind.

Sheriff Bodine:
Funny. I was about to offer you the same suggestion.

Jessica:
I heard something last night. Someone was in this room.

Sheriff Bodine:
Well then, he was wearing a red suit and left his reindeer on the roof because even the windows are nailed shut.

Jessica:
Even ghosts disturb dust when they move vases.

Grace Overholtz:
Your job is to look after the boats, not the female guests!

Jack Turney:
She made the moves on me. I had to be polite.

Grace:
She is married!

Jack:
I think she knows that. Anything else, boss lady?

Grace:
Jack, don't look for trouble.

Jack:
That's not what I was looking for.

Howard Crane:
[About one of her books] The cover showed some babe in a sexy nightgown. I never got to the good stuff.

Jessica:
I sometimes have a little difficulty living up to my covers.

Sheriff Tupper:
As soon as I have Crane's statement, I'll have this case all wrapped up.

Jessica:
You sound awfully sure of that.

Sheriff Tupper:
I wish they were all this easy. They don't always an unimpeachable eyewitness like you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Sheriff Tupper:
This is gonna look real good to the grand jury. The prosecution's star witness trying to prove that the accused is innocent of the crime that she saw him commit!

[About Joanna's habit of running naked in the woods]

Jessica:
Isn't that an unusually beautiful robe? But then I gathered that you are a very unusual young lady.

Joanna Benson:
You saw me in the woods this morning.

Jessica:
Barely.

Murderer:
It wasn't fair!

Jessica:
And what you did to Carolyn Clare, was that fair?

Vince Shackman:
You like surprises, Bowen? So do I, except I like to do the surprising.

Jessica:
I'm not much of a better.

Ernie:
That's what I used to say before my brother Ron dragged me to the races so now I put my dollar in my money belt under my shorts. That way, I gotta undress to get to my cash.

Jessica:
That's one way to hold on to your money.

Ernie:
Are you kiddin'? If I had a hot one, I'd go to the window in my birthday suit!

Tracy McGill:
Dad was here last week. He doesn't think much of having a jockey in the family.

Jessica:
Give him time to get used to the idea. Remember the time he swore he'd never use unleaded gas?

Christine Carpenter:
Jessica has given me my first winner of the day.

Jessica:
Something about the color of my scarf. I hope the horse knows.

Jessica:
I'm delighted to help.

Lt. Misko:
You will be more help than I'll need.

Jessica:
Believe me, lieutenant, I have no intention of butting into your case.

Lt. Misko:
My gut tells me different. Maybe it's indigestion.

Jessica:
By the way, there is one little thing that has been bothering me.

Pat Phillips:
Only one? Glad to hear it.

Vince:
Now to you, I may look like a bad guy. But I'm a normal person, just like you. I own a house with a mortgage, I drive a nice car, my wife is a kvetch but I love her, my eldest is going to dental school, my daughter is heavily into ballet. But this Bowen thing is messing everything up.

Jessica:
And it's messing up my niece Tracy as well.

Vince:
If I thought she iced the guy, I'd give her a bunch of roses and a good lawyer.

Jessica:
She didn't!

Vince:
She must know something about the race! Anything! Because if she doesn't, in the next couple of days, my wife may be heavily into mourning and grieving.

Lt. Misko:
You see, the last two years, I've been keeping track of my bets in this little black book. Not using real money, mind you, because with real money, I'd be, what, 350,000 dollars in the hole. But I figure that's how much I may have had with therapy.

Jessica:
But every once in a while, a big winner comes and spoils your fun.

Cabbie:
Where'd you get your license from, the Braille Institute?!

Guzman:
How'd you like to wear that steering wheel for a bowtie?!

Mary Stamm:
I used to always dream of being a writer.

Jessica:
It's never too late to start. Look at me. I'm living proof.

Mary:
You didn't have to fight your way past the parole board.

Jessica:
I can't believe you'll ever have a difficult time. Why? What are you in for?

Mary:
I murdered my husband.

Jessica:
Ms. Tug, I thought your story was quite delightful.

Tug:
Say what?

Jessica:
I particularly liked the way the gas station bandit was caught, having the getaway car shift into reverse by mistake and crash into the police car. Now that showed a great deal of imagination.

Tug:
Not exactly. That's the way it happened.

Jessica:
Why would the cook come running to the doctor's office?

Bertha:
Maybe she ate some of her own cooking.

Jessica:
If this is navarin printanier, I'm afraid both the lamb and the vegetables died of old age. I suggest you give it a decent burial.

Jessica:
What about Mary? She had a parole hearing coming up?

Warden Elizabeth Gates:
She still does.

Jessica:
Perhaps I should warn you. I intend to do everything in my power to help with that hearing.

Warden Gates:
Don't worry, Jessica. So do I.

Jessica:
Er... Michael, about this series of books that you are writing -

Michael Digby:
-all dealing with undiscovered pockets of Americana rich in heritage.

Jessica:
Yes, well, uh-

Michael:
I hope this won't sound vain but I'm going to put Cabot Cove on the map.

Jessica:
If I'm not mistaken, it already is.

Michael:
I mean everybody's map! And the last place I covered has really boomed! A new golf course, artist condos, a marina.

Jessica:
But what happened to the heart of the town?

Michael:
They turned it into a shopping mall.

Elvira Tree:
I do not have to submit to these insults. I will have you off my property, Mr. Hoffman!

Friedrich Hoffman:
You forget my lease!

Elvira:
You, sir, forget your manners!

Amos Tupper:
My peacekeeping days are behind me... Of course, nothing to say I couldn't help out, especially for an old friend like Harry.

Jessica:
I'm just thinking about what's happening to this town.

Michael:
You mean my book? I know you don't think much of it-

Jessica:
Oh no no, I was referring to some unpleasant undercurrents, not to mention electrical currents.

Sheriff Harry Pierce:
One thing is sure. I've got the killer behind bars. Now I just have to figure out which one it is.

Michael:
This is one town I'd like to remember the way it was before I got here.

Jessica:
[Fanning herself] Is the weather always like this?

Dr. Seth Hazlitt:
Nope! It starts to get hot in a couple of hours. Jess, when I suggested you write a book called "Murder at the Dig", I never dreamed you'd come meandering out to a place like this.

Jessica:
Suggested? As I recall, it was more like a dare!

Dr. Hazlitt:
Now that I don't recall. In any case, when you leave here, you'll have one hell of a book or one hell of a suntan. Maybe even both.

Jessica:
Well, I've met the resident egomaniac, the ingenue and the juvenile.

Dr. Hazlitt:
Not to mention the mysterious Indian and the crusty Yankee doctor.

Jessica:
At this rate, I'll have enough characters for a trilogy.

Dr. Stan Garfield:
So will you be working with us in the pit?

Jessica:
Wherever the action is!

Dr. Hazlitt:
I hope you enjoy digging a six-foot trench with a teaspoon.

Jessica:
How do you do?

Cynthia Armstrong:
Don't ask.

Dr. Hazlitt:
Karen and Steve. They've been sniping at each other since I got here.

Jessica:
Well, it's either a case of heat rash or... something else.

Dr. Hazlitt:
What, you mean romance?! C'mon, you've seen too many Gable Harlow movies!

Jessica:
Seth, the trouble with you is you haven't seen enough.

Dr. Hazlitt:
That Armstrong fella is amazing. He could fall into a pig sty and come up president of the hogs.

Dr. Benton:
Archaeology is a harsh mistress, Mrs. Fletcher. I remember an expedition in the wilds of Kenya that was positively life-threatening! Weeks of incredible rain! I lost two Louis Vuitton bags.

Jessica:
You must have been devastated.

Dr. Benton:
One endures.

Jessica:
Mr. Armstrong, at the risk of aggravating your already short-tempered disposition, may I remind you that there are laws regarding kidnapping even in New Mexico?

Gideon Armstrong:
You're not a prisoner, Mrs. Fletcher. Feel free to leave anytime you want, but not in one of my vehicles. I would remind you that there are laws regarding grand theft in New Mexico.

Jessica:
Not to mention murder.

Dr. Hazlitt:
The next time I invite you to a place like this, kick me.

'Jessica:
Well, the next time I accept, kick me.

Jessica:
I'm looking for Grady Fletcher.

Glenda Vandevere:
Sorry, I've never heard of him.

Jessica:
But he works in the Lila Lee company.

Glenda:
God help him.

Norman Amberson:
A good secretary learns to forge her boss' signature.

Glenda:
I'm saving that for something really big.

Jessica:
Are you so sure it's a robbery? Or did the killer just want it to look that way?

Lieutenant Varick:
Maybe it was a robbery because it looked that way. This is New York, Mrs. Fletcher. This kind of self-employment is a way of life for some people.

Fiona Keeler:
[To Jessica] If you're an example of what the Vice Squad is sending out these days, our taxpayer dollars are well spent.

Jessica:
It's so unlike the girl I remember. I mean when did she change? Why?

Fiona:
I'm so glad you're without sin, Mrs. Fletcher.

Jessica:
I'm not casting stones, Ms. Keeler. I'm just trying to understand. Why did she feel that way? She wasn't underprivileged, she had a good background...

Fiona:
None of my girls came up from the street.

Jessica:
I'm sorry. It's... it's absolutely senseless!

Fiona:
Was her life more senseless than her death?

Fiona:
Most men are fairly unpredictable. But a few aren't. Those are the dangerous ones.

Frank Lord:
This jury has just been hung by this gentleman with the open mind!

Josh Corbin:
More like an open cavity if you ask me!

Thornton Bentley:
[About the defendant] And I'll tell you something else, Callahan. Mr. Moneybags is not what he seems.

Ally Collins:
Moneybags?

Thornton:
Yeah. Rich and got it all! Used to havin' everything his own way!

Frank:
Hey hey hey! He isn't rich. His wife had the money!

Thornton:
He's got it now.

Jessica:
Mr. Bentley, Mark Reynolds is on trial, not his lifestyle.

Frank:
Lady, this is a very simple case of a one-night stand being marred by a tragic coincidence.

Jessica:
Interesting that you should say coincidence.

Ally:
And every whodunit's gotta have a few, right?

Prosecutor Tom Casselli:
[To a motel owner] Mr. Harris, do you recognize anyone in the courtroom?

Fenton Harris:
In my business, it's good practice never to recognize the customers.

Frank:
Suppose this and suppose that. Now, you gotta stop this, Mrs. Fletcher. You can't turn this into one of your make-believe murder mysteries.

Prosecutor Casselli:
Had you known the deceased long?

Willie Patchecki:
Oh, yeah. We fished together, oh, five or six years. He was livin' with me for eight months.

Prosecutor Casselli:
Would you say he had a temper?

Willie:
Temper? [Laughs] Does week-old fish bait stink?

Jackie MacKay:
Mrs. Fletcher has made a lot of sense so far. Why can't we just keep talking and listening, huh? I mean, we're 12 reasonably intelligent people here. We oughta be able to sort this thing out. Damn it! That's what we're here for, isn't it?

Gerald Richards:
Well, she is right. Why don't we just keep at it?

Drew Narramore:
Okay, Mrs. Fletcher, you have the floor.

Jessica:
Oh, dear. I wish I could be a little bit more sure about what I'm doing with it.

Jessica:
My goodness, Cornelia. I didn't know you'd left Dixon's Diner.

Cornelia:
All my customers started coming here, so I thought I might as well join them.

Dr. Seth Hazlitt:
At least in the diner you didn't have to dress up as Betsy Ross.

Jessica:
Doctors who make their rounds in hip boots hardly qualify as fashion experts.

Betty Fiddler:
[About the Joshua Peabody diner] Guess what! They don't have bathrooms. They have Adam's rooms. You get a choice: The John or the Abigail.

Margo Perry:
[Chuckles as she analyses a mass food poisoning report] Baffling.

Jessica:
You seem pleased.

Margo:
Oh, I'm always pleased, Mrs. Fletcher, when I might be on to something new. Half the time, we never do discover what we're dealing with anyway. So any additional challenge is... enticing.

Margo:
Sheriff, you'll alert the media?

Sheriff Tupper:
The media, ma'am? Oh! You mean Phil up the radio station?

Margo:
Don't you have a TV station?

Sheriff Tupper:
Lots. None of them local.

Margo:
Perhaps running tests might be a more effective use of your time, Dr. Hazlitt, instead of developing useless speculations with a crisis hound.

Jessica:
A what?

Margo:
Oh, there's one in every town, Mrs. Fletcher. Some amateur who gloms on to a crisis and tries to turn an incident that has a perfectly normal scientific solution into a Byzantine plot.

Dr. Hazlitt:
"Red as a beet, mad as a hatter." These are the symptoms of atropine poisoning.

Sheriff Tupper:
Then it isn't food poisoning. It's-It's poison in the food, and that means...

Jessica:
It was murder.

Sheriff Tupper:
But, well, you know what they say: "As Sheriff Tupper goes, so goes Cabot Cove."

Dr. Hazlitt:
Who says that?

Sheriff Tupper:
Everybody, when it comes to food.

Margo:
Preliminary tests show negative results for all substances.

Jessica:
What is that in English?

Margo:
In English? Pfft.

Jessica:
He's just not a real chef.

Alan Dupree:
Why? Because I flunked out of Cordon Bleu and because then I was fired by my father and my grandfather, and now the final ignominy, to be humiliated by the Julia Child of Cabot Cove?

Sheriff Tupper:
A mysterious stranger, huh? I've heard better stories from a poacher with a trap in one hand and a rabbit in the other.

Harrison Fraser III:
Suppose we cut to the bottom line. It's my word against his. I have a great deal of influence in this part of New England.

Jessica:
I'm sure you do, but connections won't help you to evade a simple answer to a simple question.

Margo:
Well, Mrs. Fletcher, I guess this is good-bye.

Jessica:
Oh, you're leaving before the case is solved?

Margo:
My job is bad food, not murder.

Prof. Ames Caulfield:
Ah, to be famous and adored instead of merely brilliant.

Prof. Caulfield:
[When his car leaves him stranded] Obviously, the good Lord created this machine to keep me humble.

Mr. Bonner:
Son, you want to keep that badge, you better learn your job real quick. Folks hereabouts know how the law's supposed to operate, and they're gonna make damn sure it does.

Jessica:
Linda, I must tell you, I find this town, the atmosphere terrifying. It feels as if it's going to explode.

Mr. Bonner:
Are you an expert in killing, missus?

Jessica:
No, but I think I know something about people.

Jessica:
I understand last night that you were prevented from stopping the fight by that young man from the service station.

Pat Kelso:
Billy Willetts? Yeah, he stuck a knife in my back just as I was going for the old peacemaker there.

Jessica:
What kind of knife was that, Mr. Kelso?

Pat:
Sharp, ma'am.

Carrie McKittrick:
At my age, thirty years seem like last month. It's last month I have trouble remembering.

Rev. Willie John Fargo:
Ms. Jessica, surely you cannot believe I had anything to do with that dear woman's death?

Jessica:
At the moment, I don't quite know what to believe.

District Atty. Whittaker:
Are you a doctor or something?

Jessica:
Writing murder mysteries almost qualifies me, believe me.

Earl Fargo:
[About the reverend] Either he's the smartest Okie in the state or the dumbest millionaire west of the Ozarks.

Earl Fargo:
[after Jessica exposes the murderer] Did you do it for Willie John?

Sister Ruth Fargo:
For Willie John? No. I did it to Willie John. Or I tried to. I had to be free of him, but that meant destroying him totally. I tried to tell you, Mark. I couldn't. As much as I know you love me, you could've never understood. Willie John was crushing me, Mrs. Fletcher, wringing the life out of me with his sanctimonious piety. I'm a woman, and every day I've been getting older and older, living like some plaster saint. The dutiful wife of the great and good Willie John Fargo. What was I supposed to do? Divorce him? Oh, my God. Can you just see the headlines? Or kill him? That would have thrust me into an even more untenable role. The keeper of Willie John's flame living in chastity for the rest of my years.

Rev. Fargo:
Ruth, why didn't you tell me?

Sister Ruth:
I did, Willie John, every day in a hundred different ways. But you were always too busy to hear.

Jessica:
Well, you know that Cabot Cove bus. It is not a model of punctuality.

William Readford:
It is Mrs. Fletcher, isn't it? J.B. Fletcher?

Jessica:
Why yes, but-

William:
I'm an avid reader of the Sunday book review. William Readford.

Jessica:
I know. I'm a sometimes reader of the society pages.

William:
You wish to inspect the diary, Doctor, not speed-read its contents.

Dr. Sylvia Dunn:
How am I supposed to bid on it if I don't know what's in it?

William:
You're in it, Doctor. That's all you have to know.

Sal Domino:
The last movie of yours, Sheila? Dynamite.

Sheila Saxon:
I'm glad you liked it, Sal.

Sal:
Actually, I thought it stunk. But you have always had a real talent for turning organic fertilizer into greenbacks.

Sal:
That is so beautiful, baby. When they start to hand out the Oscars for Best Performance by a Hustler, you're gonna get my vote.

William:
Lieutenant, this is absurd. You can't just arbitrarily close down this auction.

Lt. Casey:
Excuse me, sir, but the body of a famous movie star tumbles out of a piece of furniture. It's not exactly business as usual.

William:
Your superiors will hear of this.

Lt. Casey:
They usually do.

Lt. Casey:
McGraw, I'm giving you five seconds to get out that door before I throw you out.

Harry McGraw:
Yeah, you do, Casey, and I'll go right to my pals on the Morning Bulletin and tell them how this Boston flatfoot with baked beans for brains just put himself in line for a foot patrol beat in Brockton.

Harry:
I don't think it was such a hot idea leaving that million-dollar check with him.

Jessica:
there's no possible way he could cash it, even if he wanted to.

Harry:
Yeah, you don't know Boston cops

Harry:
One thing I like about you, Jessica, you got a real sense of propriety. You'd make a lousy private eye.

Lt. Casey:
If I find you near another body, I'm gonna book you. If murder were a disease, you'd be contagious.

Harry:
Yeah, well, uh, listen. I'm gonna be a little tied up tonight.

'Jessica':
You've got a date, Harry? Oh, that's nice.

Harry:
Well, you know, all work and no fooling around, uh, ain't exactly living.

Harry:
Yeah, you're a real fairy godmother, aren't you? You know, I never hit a dame in my life, but you're just begging to be number one.

Jessica:
[Hearing McGraw's first name for the first time] Harlan?!!

Harry:
Well, Jessica.

Jessica:
Harlan...

Lt. Casey:
Probably thought Harry sounded tougher. Well, it ain't!

Harry:
Harry, Harlan, Harrison. Get off my back, will ya? What's the difference?

Jessica:
Harry, I know that was very difficult for you. But now that you've put that diary to rest, honestly, don't you feel better?

Harry:
Honestly? Jessica, you must be nuts.

Connie Vernon:
Henry had been seeing Phyllis for several months. I found out. Henry told me that it was all over between them.

Jessica:
Well, maybe Henry just forgot to tell Phyllis that it was all over.

Dr. Hazlitt:
Amos, someday you're gonna break an ankle jumping to a conclusion.

Ned Olson:
I just hate to see you get mixed-up with some hippie berry picker.

Christy Olson:
He is a berry grower, Dad, and he's just going through a phase.

Ned:
Dropping out of Harvard Business School to grow blueberries is no damn phase.

Phyllis Walters:
Sheriff, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with any of this.

Sheriff Amos:
Nobody said you did yet.

Sheriff Tupper:
What is going on here?! First a missing man is dead, and then a dead man is missing!

Deputy:
Sheriff? Sheriff, we just found Stew Bennett's van over on Ben Shipley's farm.

Dr. Hazlitt:
Well, Amos, win one, lose one.

Dr. Hazlitt:
You ever thought of becoming a writer?

Sheriff Tupper:
No, sir. Me and Mrs. Fletcher have got ourselves an understanding about that.

Jessica:
We do?

Sheriff Tupper:
I don't write any books, and she don't give out any traffic tickets.

Jessica:
Literary Lines Monthly! Now there is a misnomer. Anatomical, maybe. Literary? Never!

[Upon seeing a bikini model after vowing never to fall in love at first sight again]

Grady:
Wow....

Jessica:
Well, I see your new resolution hasn't dimmed your eyesight any, Grady.

Jessica:
Your children? I keep reading that your husband's the country's most eligible bachelor.

Rachel D'Argento:
My husband? Oh, no, no. I'm Christopher's sister. I'm afraid I do all the marrying in this family. Two marriages, two children.

Antonio D'Argento:
My uncle's much too busy to raise a family of his own, so he settles for us.

Vanessa D'Argento:
So, is it true that writers come up with their ideas by watching the world around them?

Jessica:
Well, some do.

Vanessa:
Well, keep your eyes open. There's a great book in this family, Mrs. Fletcher, like something out of Eugene O'Neill. You could call it Long Day's Journey into Oblivion.

Christopher Bundy:
This should interest you- the complete works of Conan Doyle. All first editions, priceless.

Jessica:
You must read a great deal.

Christopher:
No. Who has time? I collect.

Christopher:
You are incensed at the idea of one of your stories appearing in a magazine sprinkled with photos of unclothed young ladies. Am I close?

Jessica:
Dead on target.

Christopher:
[Laughing] Mrs. Fletcher, over the past 10 years, my various magazines have featured most of America's prize-winning authors. Bundy Publications represent exposure.

Jessica:
They certainly do.

Christopher:
You're not afraid, are you? That you might get to know me, that I might destroy all those stereotypical notions buzzing around in that pretty head of yours.

Chester Harrison:
What would Hemingway do? He'd offer no compromise. That's what.

Jessica:
I told him not to quit. You know, to fight for his company no matter what. That's the part that frightens me: The "no matter what" part.

Bert Yardley:
Me and Harrison had a little talk the other night. I suggested he wise up and cooperate before he lost everything. It was a very constructive meeting.

Jessica:
You mean threatening.

Chester:
[Sighs] Lord, I feel like a character right out of Dostoyevsky.

Jessica:
It's a little early to be wallowing around in Russian angst.

Jessica:
Well, Mr. Jensen, I see that photography is one of your many talents.

Mr. Jensen:
Uh, Mrs. Fletcher, this is not exactly what it seems.

Jessica:
Then you won't mind telling Lieutenant Greco exactly what it is.

Jessica:
I'm sorry your good luck carried such an expensive price tag.

Jessica:
And another thing, Grady. I've been, uh, meaning to talk to you about your, uh, choice of employers.

Jessica:
As I have been asked to restrict my speech to four words: "Let the games begin!"

Carol McDermott:
I still can't believe I fell on my fanny in front of all those people.

Jessica:
[Laughs] That's why they call it an exhibition. But, you know, I still see flashes of that old form that won you the state championship for Cabot Cove High.

Carol:
Lord! That was 10 years ago.

Jessica:
Oh, don't remind me.

Carol':
I thought I was gonna be the next Chris Evert. I soon realized Chris had nothing to worry about.

Carol:
Oh, no! This is earth-shattering! Jessica, please forgive me. [Leaves]

Jessica:
Yes... Earth-shattering.

Brian East:
Yeah. She says things like that. But I love her anyway.

Cissy Barnes:
Listen, Doris darling, we all know what an expert you are on male tennis players. You've helped so many of them score.

Jessica:
I can remember when tennis was a gentleman's game.

Carol:
You've got a terrific memory.

Jessica:
Well, I'm not sure what you said, but if it was a book, I'd copyright it.

Mitch Mercer:
What are you trying to do, make a monkey out of my client in front of his fans?

Carol:
Only God can make a monkey, Mitch.

Carol:
That is Mitch Mercer, Donny's personal manager. I would have introduced you, but he didn't deserve the honor.

Jessica:
She's a very charming young woman.

Elliot Robinson:
Not always, but she's all I have left. You get to be more tolerant when the loneliness of old age starts fogging you in.

Cissy:
What do you think?

Elliot:
Well, it's highly original.

Cissy:
[To Jessica] That means he hates it. It's a sure sign I'm on the right track.

Carol:
Look, I'm sorry about our run-in this afternoon.

Cissy:
What? Backing up? I had no idea your gear box included reverse.

Carol:
Anyway, I do apologize. Let's be friends.

Cissy:
Let's not. I'd rather cozy up to a virus infection.

Jessica:
Lieutenant, I certainly don't want to intrude on your investigation, but...Well, with everybody moving around the room, they might be erased.

Lt. Edmund Cavette:
What?

Jessica:
The furnidents.

Lt. Cavette:
I beg your pardon?

Jessica:
The furnidents. You know, the dents that the furniture makes on the carpet.

Lt. Cavette:
A picture just flashed through my mind. Two years ago, on a Sunday morning talk show, a charming guest was deftly carving up a pompous book critic. J.B. Fletcher, I presume?

Jessica:
[Laughs] Guilty.

Congressman Brad Gardner:
I don't think you should go pokin' around that club.

Rosalind Gardner:
I was about to offer the same advice to you, darlin'.

[After Cal gets off the phone with his aunt telling her he was in the Amazon]

Jessica:
Cal, have you ever considered a career in fiction?

Calhoun Fetcher:
Well, she doesn't get a whole lot of excitement in her life.

Jessica:
You don't have to create any artificial excitement for my benefit. You've already provided enough.

Lt. Cavette:
Jessica, you're a warm, attractive woman, but you are also stubborn, pigheaded and mulish.

Lt. Cavette:
Are you quite ready, Mrs. Fletcher?

Jesssica:
Actually, Lieutenant Cavette, it's- it's only a theory. But I'm ready if you are.

Lt. Cavette:
I wouldn't deprive you of the pleasure of making a fool of yourself for only me.

Lloyd Marcus:
Someday, Jessica, you and I will have a long talk about the joys of parenthood. In terms of gratification, it ranks right up there with molar extraction.

Police Chief Cooper:
Still safer than New York. They kill you for cab fare.

Jessica:
Oh, you worked for the New York Police Department, Chief Cooper?

Chief Cooper:
Seventeen years, till the pressure on my arches got to me.

Jessica:
Must be much quieter here.

Chief Cooper:
Uh, not enough for the wife. She hates late night calls, wants me to go into plumbing with her brother.

Jessica:
Plumbers get late night calls too.

Chief Cooper:
At 24 bucks an hour, so the wife keeps remindin' me.

Jessica:
Mayor? Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were in insurance, Mr. Tilley.

Frank Tilley:
Yeah, well, maybe not for long, the way things are going. Home office is holding the bag, and when they're holding the bag, I'm holding the bag.

Julia Granger:
Isn't Donald here yet?

Mildred Tilley:
Lose him again, dear? I always know where my husband is.

Julia:
Of course you do, Mildred. If you ever let dear Frank out of your sight, no telling what he'd be up to.

Julia:
You must think I'm awful, but ever since those two people came here two years ago from New York, Cedar Heights has not been the same.

Jessica:
Well, sometimes it takes people a while to adapt.

Julia:
The dinosaurs never learned.

Lloyd:
So how was the game?

Binky Holborn:
Lloyd, my dear friend, I amazed this young thing with my flawless form and my superb follow-through. Unfortunately, for 18 holes the club-head and the balls never did get properly introduced to one another.

Binky:
[After having his invitations for dinner refused by a few guests] It's just gonna be the three of us then. The servants are going to be crushed. They so rarely get the exercise.

Mildred:
My, what a lovely outfit.

Ellen:
Oh, well, thank you.

Mildred:
I suppose if you're going fishing, it pays to have attractive-looking bait.

Mildred:
You're hot on the trail of Julia Granger's killer! But I thought they had arrested Donald?

Jessica:
They have. But, um -

Mildred:
But you don't believe it. Oh, fascinating! I agree. Jessica, I have three words for you: Cherchez la femme.

Ellen:
Donald and I, we happened to run into one another. I wouldn't try to read any more into that if I were you, Mrs. Fletcher.Or it might prove embarrassing.

Jessica:
Embarrassing to whom?

Jessica:
Golf is certainly good exercise.

Binky:
Oh, my dear lady, this is not exercise. This is a test of one's capacity for total humiliation.

Frank:
You're the chief of police, Cooper, not a plumber.

Chief Cooper:
Not yet. The way the wife's been bustin' chops, you may have my badge back by suppertime.

Ellen:
If you have something to say, Mrs. Fletcher, why don't you just say it?

Jessica:
I'd rather hear it from you.

Ellen:
You mean, were Donald and I having an affair? This is the '80s, Mrs. Fletcher. Promiscuity is not exactly page one news.

Binky:
My aged mama and papa spent far too much of it before they passed on. And it's not as if they educated me to make a living, just to enjoy the finer things, I'm afraid.