Tracy Turnblad: Penny, the cops are looking for me everywhere... you could go to jail for helping me!
Penny Pingleton: Tracy, I'm already in jail. Come on!
Corny Collins: Roll Call!
Council Members: I'm Amber! Brad! Tammy! Fender! Brenda! Sketch! Shelley! IQ! Lou Ann! Joey! Mikey! Vicki! Becky! Bix! Jesse! Darla! Paulie! Noreen! Doreen! And I'm... Link!
Tracy Turnblad, Penny Pingleton: [scream from home in front of their TV]
Edna Turnblad: Imagine! My little girl... regular, at last.
Velma Von Tussle: They're just kids, that's why we have to steer them in the white direction.
Corny Collins: [pause] RIGHT direction?
Velma Von Tussle: Isn't that what I said?
Tracy Turnblad: People who are different, their time is coming!
Corny Collins: Tell me, Velma, how exactly do you fire Corny Collins from the Corny Collins show?
[walks away]
Velma Von Tussle: [starts to speak and then pauses, frustrated] They do it all the time on "Lassie"!
Edna Turnblad: Well, I had a dream that I would own a coin-operated laundromat but I came down from that cloud real quickly!
Velma Von Tussle: [singing] Those poor runner-ups/Might still hold some grudges/They padded their 'cups'/But I screwed the judges.
Prudy Pingleton: Get the jump rope, Penny.
Penny Pingleton: [runs out of the room] Mom, not the jump rope!
Prudy Pingleton: [to Tracy] Don't you touch my canned tuna!
Corny Collins: [at the conclusion of "It's Hairspray"] Hey, baby! You look like you could use a stiff one!
Link Larkin: [presents Amber with a ring] It's time.
Amber von Tussel: Oh!
[Amber and Link kiss]
Velma Von Tussle: Amber! Save your personal life for the camera, sweetie! Oop, shiny!
[sends Amber off to makeup for more powder]
Tracy Turnblad: I'm a bad, bad girl who needs to be punished.
Velma Von Tussle: 'Detroit sound?' What's that? The cries of people being mugged?
Police Chief: [while on the lookout for Tracy] I doubt she'll risk jail to win some beauty pageant.
Velma Von Tussle: [to herself] I risked communicable diseases. She'll certainly risk jail.
Penny Pingleton: [about Amber] Plastic little spastic.
Wilbur Turnblad: [to a sobbing Edna, who thinks he's been cheating on her] Honey, took me five years to figure out you were flirting!
[softly]
Wilbur Turnblad: How could I ever?
Edna Turnblad: Would you keep that racket down? I'm trying to iron, here!
