Louis Armstrong: Right song, but the wrong girl.
出自電影《上流社會》 的經典對白。
更多上流社會的經典對白
Louis Armstrong: Right song, but the wrong girl.
End of song, beginning of story.
Liz Imbrie: Mike, if I ever am in your way. Don't honk, just run over me.
Uncle Willie: My dear boy, this is the sort of day history tells us is better spent in bed.
Tracy Lord: Oh, it got dark all of a sudden.
Tracy Lord: There are fairies at the bottom of my garden all ringing little bells.
Tracy Lord: Isn't it a fine day. Is everybody fine? That's fine.
Louis Armstrong: He's gonna get nowhere with that kind of music. Good for the feet, nothin' for the heart.
Tracy Lord: Look everybody, it's Uncle Willy! Wasn't it nice of Uncle Willy to surprise us?
C. K. Dexter-Haven: Uncle Willy, this morning you look like a tree full of owls.
Mike Connor: You know how I feel about my grandmother but I'd sell her for a drink.
Louis Armstrong: What goes on around here? There's a dark horse in this here race and my boy's running a slow third.
C. K. Dexter-Haven: You'll find it under Harvard Classics. Just give Darwin a little nudge.
C. K. Dexter-Haven: They met in a hole in the ground.
Tracy Lord: Mother, don't you think Caroline is old enough to be sent to a good military school?
C. K. Dexter-Haven: Oh Sam you're slipping. That used to terrify me, the withering glance of the goddess.
Tracy Lord: Caroline Lord, if you put this picture in my wedding presents once more I am going to personally chain you to your bed.
Liz Imbrie: You know something professor, I think you dropped a loop.
Liz Imbrie: You know, one of the prettiest sights in this pretty world is the sight of the privileged class enjoying its privileges.
Tracy Lord: You must be... . Of course you are. I adore strangers.
Tracy Lord: Isn't it time for your milk and arsenic, darling?
Caroline Lord: Oh, I wish something would happen around here. Nothing definitely *ever* happens here.
C. K. Dexter-Haven: Hi Pops! How's the chops? Good to see you, boy.
Louis Armstrong: Can you dig old Satchmo swinging in the beautiful high society?
Tracy Lord: Golly Moses, I'm a lucky girl.
Tracy Lord: And I'm to be examined, undressed and generally humiliated at 15 cents a copy?
Tracy Lord: I'll give them a slant on Newport home life that will stand their hair on end.
Tracy Lord: Mr. Haven has become quite famous since our divorce. Undoubtedly you know of his piano concerto, "Choo Choo Mama."
Tracy Lord: And what little mission of mischief brings you out of the bushes?
Mike Connor: Who wants to wallow in champagne?
Mike Connor: Miss Tracy Samantha. Samantha. What a lovely, musical name. Reminds me of an lndian cure for snakebite.
Seth Lord: You have a good mind, Tracy. You have a pretty face, a fine, disciplined body that does what you tell it. You have everything it takes to make a lovely woman, except the one essential: an understanding heart. Without it, you might just as well be made of bronze.
Tracy Lord: You came here with your mind already made up. The time to make up your mind about people is never.
C. K. Dexter-Haven: From the Equator. Up to the Pole, Everybody winging, Everybody singing, That rock, rock, rock, Rock, rock and roll...
Tracy Lord: All of a sudden, I've got the shakes.
Louis Armstrong: Right song, but the wrong girl.
Louis Armstrong: End of song, beginning of story.
Uncle Willie: My dear boy, this is the sort of day history tells us is better spent in bed.
Liz Imbrie: Mike, if I ever am in your way. Don't honk, just run over me.
Louis Armstrong: He's gonna get nowhere with that kind of music. Good for the feet, nothin' for the heart.
Tracy Lord: Look everybody, it's Uncle Willy! Wasn't it nice of Uncle Willy to surprise us?
Tracy Lord: Oh, it got dark all of a sudden.
Mike Connor: You know how I feel about my grandmother but I'd sell her for a drink.
Tracy Lord: There are fairies at the bottom of my garden all ringing little bells.
Tracy Lord: Isn't it a fine day. Is everybody fine? That's fine.
C. K. Dexter-Haven: Uncle Willy, this morning you look like a tree full of owls.
Louis Armstrong: What goes on around here? There's a dark horse in this here race and my boy's running a slow third.
C. K. Dexter-Haven: You'll find it under Harvard Classics. Just give Darwin a little nudge.
C. K. Dexter-Haven: They met in a hole in the ground.
Liz Imbrie: Plate.
Mike Connor: Don't dig that kind of crooning, chum. C. K. Dexter-Haven: You must be one of the newer fellows.
Tracy Lord: I'm such an unholy mess of a girl. C. K. Dexter-Haven: Oh, come on, that's not even good conversation, Tracy.
Mike Connor: She's a lovely girl. Tracy Lord: Yes, isn't she? Ah, but we're afraid she has a homicidal streak.
Mike Connor: Didn't you once know a girl named Tracy Samantha Lord? C. K. Dexter-Haven: Yes, I did. Mike Connor: No, you didn't! If you did, you wouldn't have let her go!
George Kittredge: That sounds like Tracy's voice. C. K. Dexter-Haven: No, no. It's just the night watchman. George Kittredge: It's a woman's voice. C. K. Dexter-Haven: Well he's a lyric tenor you see.
Liz Imbrie: Well, since Mike's disappeared too I may as well go home. C. K. Dexter-Haven: Well, what about me taking you home, then, everybody come look for us? Liz Imbrie: Oh, that's the nicest thing I've heard all night.
Liz Imbrie: Were you by any chance playing footsie with me at lunch? Mike Connor: From where I sat? Liz Imbrie: I didn't think your reach was that good. Seth Lord has a roving eye *and* foot.
Mike Connor: Hands up! Tracy Lord: Oh it's you! Go away. Mike Connor: Where are you going? Tracy Lord: Some place and dance. Mike Connor: But they're dancing in there. Tracy Lord: I know but George is frowning at me and I can't dance when anyone frowns at me.
C. K. Dexter-Haven: Liz, you're in love with Connor aren't you? Liz Imbrie: People ask the darnedest questions. C. K. Dexter-Haven: Why don't you marry him? Liz Imbrie: I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. C. K. Dexter-Haven: I said why don't you marry him? Liz Imbrie: He's still got a lot to learn. I don't want to get in his way for a while. C. K. Dexter-Haven: Supposing some other girl comes along in the meantime. Liz Imbrie: I guess I'd just scratch her eyes out. Unless that is she was marrying someone else the next day. C. K. Dexter-Haven: You're quite a girl Liz. Liz Imbrie: I don't know. I take nice pictures though.
Mrs. Seth Lord: Tracy, look at the way she does her hair. Tracy Lord: Oh, yes, it's lovely. Is it lacquered?
Tracy Lord: One thing's for sure. You're well rid of me. C. K. Dexter-Haven: Oh, no, no-one can say that but me.
Caroline Lord: What's this? Mrs. Seth Lord: I don't know dear. Caroline Lord: It stinks. Mrs. Seth Lord: Caroline, don't say stinks. If absolutely necessary, smells, but only if absolutely necessary.
Caroline Lord: Mother, don't you think it's stinking of Tracy not to invite father to the wedding? Mrs. Seth Lord: Yes, just between us, I think it's good and stinking.
Uncle Willie: I can't find Liz. C. K. Dexter-Haven: I think I just saw someone wander out on to the terrace. Alone. Uncle Willie: You don't say. The little vixen! C. K. Dexter-Haven: Ollie ollie oxen free! C. K. Dexter-Haven: What's the matter? Uncle Willie giving you a little trouble? Liz Imbrie: That man's gonna wind up a juvenile delinquent mark my words.
Mike Connor: Liz, I know I'm not destiny's dream man but... Liz Imbrie: Mike, I think I'd better grab you. You're likely to get in trouble one of these days.
Mike Connor: This is the voice of doom. Mrs. Seth Lord: What? Mike Connor: This is to tell you your days are numbered. Mrs. Seth Lord: Oh dear. One of the servants has been at the sherry again.
Mrs. Seth Lord: This is Miss Elizabeth Imbrie and Mr Mike Macauley Connor. They're from Spy magazine. C. K. Dexter-Haven: Spy? Say your tastes have changed a little haven't they, Sam?
Louis Armstrong: You could play football in this room. C. K. Dexter-Haven: I know, but can you rehearse? Louis Armstrong: Is that chandelier tied tight up there? C. K. Dexter-Haven: If it gets to swinging a little put a mute in your horn.
Tracy Lord: I would like to talk to you privately. C. K. Dexter-Haven: Well now, I consider that right neighborly.
Mike Connor: Would you have four footmen bring me a large ashtray. Liz Imbrie: Mike, be careful what you say. We may be wired for sound.
Liz Imbrie: You know something professor, I think you dropped a loop.
