Harry Burns: There are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance.
Sally Albright: Which one am I?
Harry Burns: You’re the worst kind. You’re high maintenance but you think you’re low maintenance.

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Harry Burns: Right now everything is great, everyone is happy, everyone is in love and that is wonderful! But you gotta know that sooner or later you’re gonna be screaming at each other about who’s gonna get this dish. This eight dollar dish will cost you a thousand dollars in phone calls to the legal firm of That’s Mine, This Is Yours.
Marie: Harry!
Harry Burns: Please, Jess, Marie. Do me a favor, for your own good, put your name in your books right now before they get mixed up and you won’t know whose is whose. ‘Cause someday, believe it or not, you’ll go 15 rounds over who’s gonna get this coffee table. This stupid, wagon wheel, Roy Rogers, garage sale coffee table!
Jess: I thought you liked it!
Harry Burns: I was being nice!

Sally Albright: Is Harry bringing anybody to the wedding?
Marie: I don’t think so.
Sally Albright: Is he seeing anybody?
Marie: He was seeing this anthropologist, but…
Sally Albright: What’s she look like?
Marie: Thin. Pretty. Big tits. Your basic nightmare.

Jess: “Baby talk”? That’s not a saying!
Harry Burns: Oh, but “baby fish mouth” is sweeping the nation?

Sally Albright: You see? That is just like you, Harry. You say things like that, and you make it impossible for me to hate you!

Harry Burns: Had my dream again where I’m making love, and the Olympic judges are watching. I’d nailed the compulsaries, so this is it, the finals. I got a 9.8 from the Canadians, a perfect 10 from the Americans, and my mother, disguised as an East German judge, gave me a 5.6. Must have been the dismount.