Stanley Ford: You get-um dressed, me go talk-um Butler.

Stanley Ford: Gentlemen...
[looks at Harold Lampson, who gives him a wink and a grin; turns back to jury]
Stanley Ford: Gentlemen, I address you not as judge and jury, but as a fellow American male. The crime that you have just seen Harold Lampson commit in his imagination I have been accused of committing in reality. Too long has the American man allowed himself to be bullied, coddled, and mothered, and tyrannized, and in general meant to feel like a feeble-minded idiot by the female of the species. Do you realize the power that you have in your hand here today? If one man - just one man - can stick his wife in the goop from the gloppitta-gloppitta machine, and get away with it! Whoa-ho-ho, boy, we've got it made. We have got it made. All of us.
Charles Firbank: Hear! Hear!
Stanley Ford: Gentlemen, I did it.
[crowd murmurs]
Stanley Ford: I killed her. I murdered my wife.
[judge bangs gavel]
Stanley Ford: Every single charge that the district attorney has leveled against me is true. Indeed, I did slip her a Mickey - brrrup-brrrap!
[smacks rail]
Stanley Ford: I cold-bloodedly then fed her into a tomb of goop from the gloppitta-gloppitta machine! I ask you to acquit me! Acquit me on the grounds of justifiable homicide. And not for my sake... for yours.

Charles Firbank: This is Mr. Ford's shower - thermostatically controlled at Mr. Ford's body temperature: ninety-eight point *seven*!

Harold Lampson: I am speaking to you now not as your lawyer but as your friend. Stan, you are a grown man and grown men simply can't, repeat cannot, go around spreading terror on the New York streets at the height of the noon hour accompanied -will you stop just a minute, Stan?- by naked women.
Stanley Ford: She wasn't naked. She had a diamond in her navel.

Charles Firbank: Good God. Doesn't speak English? And yet, on the other hand, if one will go around marrying persons who pop out of cakes, it's bound to be, well, rather catch as catch can, isn't it, sir?