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Stella: Intelligence. Nothing has caused the human race so much trouble as intelligence.

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Jeff: Why would a man leave his apartment three times on a rainy night with a suitcase and come back three times?
Lisa: He likes the way his wife welcomes him home.

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Lisa: I wish I were creative.
Jeff: You are. You're great at creating difficult situations.

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Stella: How much do we need to bail Lisa from jail?
Jeff: Well, this is first offense burglary, that's about $250. I have $127.
Stella: Lisa's handbag. Uh... 50 cents. I got $20 or so in my purse.
Jeff: And what about the rest?
Stella: When those cops at the station see Lisa, they'll

even contribute.

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Lisa: What's he doing? Cleaning house?
Jeff: He's washing and scrubbing down the bathroom walls.
Stella: Must've splattered a lot.
[both Jeff and Lisa look at Stella with disgust]
Stella: Come on, that's what were all thinkin'. He killed her in there, now he has to clean up those stains before he

leaves.
Lisa: Stella... your choice of words!
Stella: Nobody ever invented a polite word for a killin' yet.

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Jeff: [into the phone] He killed a dog last night because the dog was scratching around in the garden. You know why? Because he had something buried in that garden that the dog scented.
Lt. Doyle: [voice] Like an old hambone?
Jeff: I don't know what pet names Thorwald had for his wife.

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Stella: Maybe one day she'll find her happiness.
Jeff: Yeah, some man'll lose his.

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Jeff: When am I going to see you again?
Lisa: [angry] Not for a long time...
[softening]
Lisa: at least not until tomorrow night.

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Jeff: She wants me to marry her.
Stella: That's normal.
Jeff: I don't want to.
Stella: That's abnormal.

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[regarding Jeff's telephoto lens]
Stella: Mind if I use that portable keyhole?

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Stella: I can hear you now: "Get out of my life, you wonderful woman. You're too good for me."

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Lisa: I'm not much on rear window ethics.

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Stella: When two people love each other, they come together - WHAM - like two taxis on Broadway.

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Lisa: The last thing Mrs. Thorwald would leave behind would be her wedding ring. Stella, do you ever leave yours at home?
Stella: The only way somebody would get that would be to chop off my - finger. Let's go down to the garden and find out what's buried there.
Lisa: Why not? I always wanted to meet Mrs. Thorwald.

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Lisa: How's your leg?
Jeff: Hurts a little.
Lisa: Your stomach?
Jeff: Empty as a football.
Lisa: And your love life?
Jeff: Not too active.
Lisa: Anything else bothering you?
Jeff: Uh-huh, who are you?

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Stella: We've become a race of Peeping Toms. What people ought to do is get outside their own house and look in for a change. Yes sir. How's that for a bit of homespun philosophy?
Jeff: Reader's Digest, April 1939.
Stella: Well, I only quote from the best.

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Lisa: Today's a very special day.
Jeff: It's just another run-of-the-mill Wednesday. The calendar's full of 'em.

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Jeff's Editor: It's about time you got married, before you turn into a lonesome and bitter old man.
Jeff: Yeah, can't you just see me, rushing home to a hot apartment to listen to the automatic laundry and the electric dishwasher and the garbage disposal and the nagging wife...
Jeff's Editor: Jeff, wives don't nag anymore. They

discuss.
Jeff: Oh, is that so, is that so? Well, maybe in the high-rent district they discuss. In my neighborhood they still nag.

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Stella: He's gonna run out on her, the coward.
Jeff: Sometimes it's worse to stay than it is to run.

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Lt. Doyle: How do you do?
Lisa: We think Thorwald's guilty.