All About Eve Quotes

[a butler passes by]

Miss Casswell: Oh, waiter!

Addison DeWitt: That is not a waiter, my dear, that is a butler.

Miss Casswell: Well, I can't yell "Oh butler!" can I? Maybe somebody's name is Butler.

Addison DeWitt: You have a point. An idiotic one, but a point.

Miss Casswell: I don't want to make trouble. All I want is a drink.

Max Fabian: Leave it to me. I'll get you one.

Miss Casswell: Thank you, Mr. Fabian.

Addison DeWitt: Well done! I can see your career rise in the east like the sun.

Margo: I'm being rude now, aren't I? Or should I say, ain't I?

Addison DeWitt: You're maudlin and full of self-pity. You're magnificent!

Lloyd Richards: How about calling it a night?

Margo: And you pose as a playwright? A situation pregnant with possibilities and all you can think of is everybody go to sleep.

Bill Sampson: Have you no human consideration?

Margo: Show me a human, and I might have!

Margo: Heartburn? It's that Miss Casswell. I don't see why she hasn't given Addison heartburn.

Bill Sampson: No heart to burn!

Margo: Everybody has a heart - except some people.

Lloyd Richards: A Hollywood movie star just arrived.

Margo: Shucks, and I sent my autograph book to the cleaner.

Lloyd Richards: That bitter cynicism of yours is something you've acquired since you left Radcliffe!

Karen: The cynicism you refer to, I acquired the day I discovered I was different from little boys!

Bill Sampson: We have to go to City Hall for the marriage license and blood test.

Margo: I'd marry you if it turned out you had no blood at all.

Miss Casswell: Tell me this, do they have auditions for television?

Addison DeWitt: That's, uh, all television is, my dear, nothing but auditions.

[Bill is saying goodbye to Birdie as he departs for Hollywood]

Bill Sampson: Any messages? What do you want me to tell Tyrone Power?

Birdie: Just give him my phone number; I'll tell him myself.

[on theatrical producers]

Miss Casswell: Why do they always look like unhappy rabbits?

Lloyd Richards: I shall never understand the weird process by which a body with a voice suddenly fancies itself as a mind. Just when exactly does an actress decide they're HER words she's saying, and HER thoughts she's expressing?

Margo: Usually at the point where she has to rewrite and rethink them, to keep the audience from leaving the theatre!

Lloyd Richards: What makes you think either Miller or Sherwood would stand for the nonsense I take from you? You'd better stick to Beaumont and Fletcher! They've been dead for three hundred years!

Margo: ALL playwrights should be dead for three hundred years!

Lloyd Richards: There comes a time that a piano realizes that it has not written a concerto.

Margo: And you, I take it, are the Paderewski who plays his concerto on me, the piano?

Margo: So many people know me. I wish I did. I wish someone would tell me about me.

Karen: You're Margo, just Margo.

Margo: And what is that, besides something spelled out in light bulbs, I mean - besides something called a temperament, which consists mostly of swooping about on a broomstick and screaming at the top of my voice? Infants behave the way I do, you know. They carry on and misbehave - they'd get drunk if they knew how - when they can't have what they want, when they feel unwanted or insecure or unloved.

Addison DeWitt: You could sleep now, couldn't you?

Eve: Why not?

Addison DeWitt: The mark of a true killer: sleep tight, rest easy, and come out fighting.

Eve: It's not modesty. I just don't try to kid myself.

Addison DeWitt: A revolutionary approach to the Theater.

Eve: I won't play tonight. I couldn't, not possibly. I couldn't go on.

Addison DeWitt: Couldn't go on? You'll give the performance of your life.

Margo: You bought the new girdles a size smaller, I can feel it.

Birdie: Something maybe grew a size larger.

Margo: When we get home you're going to get into one of those girdles and act for two and a half hours.

Birdie: I couldn't get into the girdle in two and a half hours.

Margo: Don't get up. And please stop acting as if I were the queen mother.

Eve: I'm sorry, I...

Bill Sampson: Outside of a beehive, Margo, your behavior would not be considered either queenly or motherly.

Margo: You are in a beehive, pal. Didn't you know? We are all busy little bees, full of stings, making honey day and night. Aren't we honey?

Lloyd Richards: You've been talking to that venomous fishwife Addison DeWitt!

Margo: In this case, apparently as trustworthy as the World Almanac!

Bill Sampson: You have every reason for happiness.

Margo: Except happiness!

Bill Sampson: You know, there isn't a playwright in the world who could make me believe this would happen between two adult people. Goodbye, Margo.

Margo: Bill? Where are you going? To find Eve?

Bill Sampson: That suddenly makes the whole thing believable.

Bill Sampson: I start shooting a week from Monday. Zanuck is impatient. He wants me, he needs me.

Margo: Zanuck, Zanuck, Zanuck. What are you two, lovers?

Llyod Richards: I understand that your understudy, Miss Harrington, has given her notice.

Margo: Too bad.

Bill Sampson: I'm broken up about it.

Margo: [in front of her boyfriend, Bill] I love you, Max. I really mean it. I love you. Come to the pantry.

[she leaves]

Max Fabian: [to Bill] She loves me like a father. Also, she's loaded.

Margo: Birdie, you don't like Eve, do you?

Birdie: You looking for an answer or an argument?

Margo: An answer.

Birdie: No.

Margo: Why not?

Birdie: Now you want an argument.

Margo: As it happens, there are particular aspects of my life to which I would like to maintain sole and exclusive rights and privileges.

Bill Sampson: For instance what?

Margo: For instance: you!

Llyod Richards: You knew when you came in that the audition was over, that Eve was your understudy, playing that childish little game of cat and mouse.

Margo: Not mouse, never mouse. If anything *rat*!

Bill Sampson: I don't agree, Addison.

Addison DeWitt: That happens to be your particular abnormality.

[Margo is getting drunk at the party]

Bill Sampson: Many of your guests have been wondering when they may be permitted to view the body. Where has it been laid out?

Margo: It hasn't been laid out, we haven't finished with the embalming. As a matter of fact, you're looking at it - the remains of Margo Channing, sitting up. It is my last wish to be buried sitting up.

Birdie: There's a message from the bartender. Does Miss Channing know she ordered domestic gin by mistake?

Margo: The only thing I ordered by mistake is the guests. They're domestic, too, and they don't care what they drink as long as it burns!

Margo: She thinks only of me, doesn't she?

Birdie: Well, let's say she thinks only about you, anyway.

Margo: How do you mean that?

Birdie: I'll tell you how: like... like she's studying you, like you was a play or a book or a set of blueprints - how you walk, talk, eat, think, sleep...

Margo: I'm sure that's very flattering, Birdie. I'm sure there's nothing wrong with it.

Bill Sampson: [to Eve] "Don't let it worry you", said the camera man, "Even DeMille couldn't see anything looking through the wrong end!" So that was the first and last...

Margo: [entering] Don't let me kill the point. Or isn't it a story for grownups?

Bill Sampson: You've heard it - about the time I looked into the wrong end of the camera finder.

Margo: Remind me to tell you about the time I looked into the heart of an artichoke.

Eve: I'd like to hear it.

Margo: Some snowy night, in front of the fire.

Bill Sampson: This is my cue to take you in my arms and reassure you. But I'm not going to - I'm too mad.

Margo: Guilty!

Bill Sampson: Mad! Darling, there are certain characteristics for which you are famous, on stage and off. I love you for some of them, in spite of others. I haven't let those become too important. They're part of your equipment for getting along in what is laughingly called our environment. You have to keep your teeth sharp - all right - but I will not have you sharpen them on me, or on Eve!

Margo: What about her teeth? What about her fangs?

Bill Sampson: She hasn't cut them yet, and you know it! So when you start judging an idealistic, dreamy-eyed kid by the barroom Benzedrine standards of this megalomaniac society, I won't have it! Eve Harrington has never, by word, look, thought, or suggestion indicated anything to me but her adoration for you and her happiness at our being in love. And to intimate anything else doesn't spell jealousy to me - it spells a paranoiac insecurity that you should be ashamed of!

Margo: Cut! Print it! What happens in the next reel? Do I get dragged off screaming to the snake pits?

Margo: Thank you, Eve. I'd like a martini, very dry.

Bill Sampson: I'll get it.

[to Eve]

Bill Sampson: What'll you have?

Margo: A milkshake?

Eve: A martini, very dry, please.

Margo: Margo Channing is ageless - spoken like a press agent.

Lloyd Richards: I know what I'm talking about. After all, they're my plays.

Margo: Spoken like an author. Lloyd, I'm not twenty-ish, I'm not thirty-ish. Three months ago I was forty years old. Forty. Four O. That slipped out. I hadn't quite made up my mind to admit it. Now I suddenly feel as if I've taken all my clothes off.

Karen: A part in a play. You'd do all that just for a part in a play?

Eve: I'd do much more for a part that good.

Addison DeWitt: Well, Max has gone to a great deal of trouble. This is going to be an elaborate party, and it's for you.

Eve: No it isn't.

[raises the award statuette]

Eve: It's for this.

Addison DeWitt: It's the same thing, isn't it?

Eve: Exactly. Here, take it to the party instead of me.

[hands it to him]

Addison DeWitt: And what's your name?

Phoebe: Phoebe.

Addison DeWitt: Phoebe?

Phoebe: I call myself Phoebe.

Addison DeWitt: And why not? Tell me, Phoebe, do you want someday to have an award like that of your own?

Phoebe: More than anything else in the world.

Addison DeWitt: Then you must ask Miss Harrington how to get one. Miss Harrington knows all about it.

Bill Sampson: Looks like I'm going to have a very fancy party...

Margo: I thought you were going to be late.

Bill Sampson: When I'm guest of honor?

Margo: I had no idea you were even here.

Bill Sampson: I ran into Eve on my way upstairs; she told me you were dressing.

Margo: That never stopped you before.

Bill Sampson: Well, we started talking, she wanted to know all about Hollywood, she seemed so interested...

Margo: She's a girl of so many interests.

Bill Sampson: It's a pretty rare quality these days.

Margo: She's a girl of so many rare qualities.

Bill Sampson: So she seems.

Margo: So you've pointed out, so often. So many qualities, so often. Her loyalty, efficiency, devotion, warmth, affection - and so young! So young and so fair...

Margo: Why so remote Addison? I should think you'd be at your protégé's side lending her moral support.

Addison DeWitt: Miss Casswell at the moment is where I can lend no support, moral or otherwise.

Margo: In the lady's, shall we say, lounge?

Addison DeWitt: ...being violently ill to her tummy.

Birdie: Have you ever heard of the word "union"?

Margo: Behind in your dues? How much?

Birdie: I haven't got a union. I'm slave labor.

Margo: Well?

Birdie: But the wardrobe women have got one, and next to a tenor, a wardrobe woman is the touchiest thing in show business.

Karen: I'm sorry, Margo.

Margo: What for? It isn't as though you personally drained the gas tank yourself.

Margo: Please don't play governess, Karen. I haven't your unyielding good taste. I wish *I* could have gone to Radcliffe, too, but Father wouldn't hear of it... He needed help behind the notions counter.

Margo: [continues] I'm being rude now, aren't I? Or should I say "ain't I"?

Addison DeWitt: You're maudlin and full of self-pity. You're magnificent.

Karen: [Eve walks in, carrying the fur coat of a new arrival to Margo's party] Who'd show up at this hour? It's time people went home. Hold that coat up.

Karen: [Eve holds up a luxurious full-length fur coat, Karen lets out a whistle] Whose is it?

Eve: Some Hollywood movie star's. Her plane got in late.

Karen: Discouraging, isn't it? Women with furs like that where it never even gets cold.

Eve: Hollywood.

[tosses the fur coat on the bed]

Margo: [as she's getting ready for the party] The extra help get here?

Birdie: There's some loose characters dressed as maids and butlers. Who'd you call, the William Morris Agency?

Margo: You're not being funny: I could *get* actors for less.

Bill Sampson: I can't believe you're making this up. It sounds like something out of an old Clyde Fitch play!

Margo: Clyde Fitch, though you may not think so, was well before my time.

Bill Sampson: I've always denied the legend that you were in "Our American Cousin" the night Lincoln was shot.

Margo: I *don't* think that's funny!

Lloyd Richards: Karen, let me tell you about Eve. She's got everything - a born actress. Sensitive, understanding, young, exciting, vibrant...

Karen: Don't run out of adjectives, dear.

Karen: [narrating] Newton, they say, thought of gravity by getting hit on the head by an apple. And the man who invented the steam-engine, he was watching a teakettle. But not me. My big idea came to me just sitting on a couch. That boot in the rear to Margo. Heaven knows, she had one coming. From me, from Lloyd, from Eve, Bill, Max and so on. We'd all felt those size fives of hers often enough. But how? The answer was buzzing around me like a fly. I had it. But I let it go. Screaming and calling names is one thing, but this could mean...

Karen: [continues] Why not? "Why," I said to myself, "not?" It would all seem perfectly legitimate. And only two people in the world would know. Also, the boot would land where it would do the most good for all concerned. After all, it was no more than a harmless joke which Margo herself would be the first to enjoy. And no reason why she shouldn't be told about it... in time.

Karen: [on the phone, calling Eve to let her in on her little "joke"] Hello. Will you please call Miss Eve Harrington to the phone?

Addison DeWitt: What do you take me for?

Eve: I don't know that I'd take you for anything.

Addison DeWitt: Is it possible, even conceivable, that you've confused me with that gang of backward children you play tricks on, that you have the same contempt for me as you have for them?

Eve: I'm sure you mean something by that, Addison, but I don't know what.

Addison DeWitt: Look closely, Eve. It's time you did. I am Addison DeWitt. I am nobody's fool, least of all yours.

Eve: I never intended you to be.

Addison DeWitt: Yes you did, and you still do.

Eve: I still don't know what you're getting at, but right now I want to take my nap. It's important...

Addison DeWitt: It's important right now that we talk, killer to killer.

Eve: Champion to champion.

Addison DeWitt: Not with me, you're no champion. You're stepping way up in class.

Eve: Addison, will you please say what you have to say, plainly and distinctly, and then get out, so I can take my nap?

Addison DeWitt: Very well - plainly and distinctly - though I consider it unnecessary because you know as well as I do what I'm going to say: Lloyd may leave Karen, but he will not leave Karen for you.

Eve: What do you mean by that?

Addison DeWitt: More plainly and more distinctly: I have not come to New Haven to see the play, discuss your dreams, or pull the ivy from the walls of Yale. I have come here to tell you that you will not marry Lloyd, or anyone else for that matter, because I will not permit it.

Eve: What have you got to do with it?

Addison DeWitt: Everything, because after tonight, you will belong to me.

Eve: Belong? To you? I can't believe my ears!

Addison DeWitt: What a dull cliché.

Eve: Belong to you - why, that sounds medieval, something out of an old melodrama!

Addison DeWitt: So does the history of the world for the past twenty years. I don't enjoy putting it as bluntly as this. Frankly, I'd hoped that somehow you would have known, that you would have taken it for granted that you and I...

Eve: Taken it for granted that you and I...

[laughs]

Addison DeWitt: [slaps her] Now, remember, as long as you live, never to laugh at me - at anything or anyone else, but never at me.

Eve: [walks to the door and opens it] Get out!

Addison DeWitt: You're too short for that gesture. Besides, it went out with Mrs. Fiske.

Margo: I distinctly remember, Addison, crossing you off of my guest list. What are you doing here?

Addison DeWitt: Dear Margo, you were an unforgettable Peter Pan. You must play it again, soon. You remember Miss Casswell.

Margo: I do not. How do you do?

Miss Casswell: We've never met. Maybe that's why?

Addison DeWitt: Miss Casswell is an actress, a graduate of the Copacabana school of the dramatic arts.

[Eve enters]

Addison DeWitt: Ah, Eve.

Eve: Good evening, Mr. DeWitt.

Margo: I'd no idea you two knew each other.

Addison DeWitt: This must be at long last our formal introduction. Until now, we've only met in passing.

Miss Casswell: That's how you met me... in passing.

Margo: Eve, this is an old friend of Mr. DeWitt's mother. Miss Casswell, Miss Harrington.

Eve: Miss Casswell.

Miss Casswell: How do you do?

Margo: Addison, I've been waiting for you to meet Eve for the longest time.

Addison DeWitt: It could only have been your natural timidity that kept you from mentioning it.

Margo: You've heard of her great interest in the theater.

Addison DeWitt: We have that in common.

Margo: Then you two must have a long talk.

Eve: I'm afraid Mr. DeWitt would find me boring before too long.

Miss Casswell: You won't bore him, honey. You won't even get a chance to talk.

Addison DeWitt: Claudia, come here.

[takes her aside]

Addison DeWitt: You see that man, that's Max Fabian, the producer. Now, go do yourself some good.

Miss Casswell: Why do they always look like unhappy rabbits?

Addison DeWitt: Because that's what they are.

[taking her coat]

Addison DeWitt: Now, go and make him happy.

[goes back to Margo and drapes the coat over her arm]

Addison DeWitt: Now, don't worry about your little charge, she'll be in safe hands.

[walks off with Eve]

Margo: [watches them go, then lifts her martini] Ah-men.

Addison DeWitt: Hello. Who are you?

Phoebe: Miss Harrington's resting, Mr. Dewitt. She asked me to see who it is.

Addison DeWitt: Oh well, we won't disturb her rest. It seems Miss Harrington left her award in the taxicab. Will you give it to her? Tell me, how did you know my name?

Phoebe: [coquettishly] It's a very famous name, Mr. DeWitt.

Addison DeWitt: And what's your name?

Phoebe: Phoebe.

Addison DeWitt: [incredulously] Phoebe?

Phoebe: [bristling] I call myself Phoebe!

Addison DeWitt: And why not? Tell me, Phoebe, do you want some day to have an award like that of your own?

[noticing how enviously Phoebe holds and admires the trophy]

Phoebe: More than anything else in the world.

Addison DeWitt: Then you must ask Miss Harrington how to get one. Miss Harrington knows all about it.

Margo: It's obvious you're not a woman.

Bill Sampson: I've been aware of that for some time.

Margo: How was Miss Casswell?

Addison DeWitt: Frankly, I don't remember.

Margo: Just slipped your mind?

Addison DeWitt: Completely. Nor I am sure anyone else can tell you how Miss Casswell read or whether Miss Casswell read or rode a pogo stick.

Llyod Richards: Eve did mention the play, but in passing. She'd never ask to play a part like Cora. She'd never have the nerve.

Karen: Eve would ask Abbott to give her Costello.

[first lines - voiceover]

Addison DeWitt: The Sarah Siddons Award is perhaps unknown to you. It has been spared the sensational publicity of such questionable honors as the Pulitzer Prize and those awards presented annually by that film society. The distinguished-looking gentleman is an extremely old actor. Being an actor, he will go on speaking for some time. It is not important that you hear what he says.

Eve: I hope you don't mind my speaking to you?

Karen: Not at all.

Eve: I've seen you so often. It took every bit of courage I could raise.

Karen: To speak to just a playwright's wife? I'm the lowest form of celebrity.

Eve: Mr. Sampson. What's he like?

Karen: Bill Sampson? He's - he's a director.

Eve: He's the best!

Karen: He'll agree with you.

Karen: I'm gonna take you to Margo.

Eve: Oh, no!

Karen: Oh, yes. She's got to meet you.

Eve: No. No, I'd be imposing on her. I'd be just another tongue-tied, gushing fan.

Margo: "I don't think you can rightly say we lost the war. We was more starved out, you might say. That's why I don't understand all these plays about love-starved Southern women. Love was one thing we were never starved for in the South."

Lloyd Richards: Margo's interview with a lady reporter from the South.

Birdie: And the minute it gets printed, they're gonna fire on Gettysburg all over again.

Margo: It was Fort Sumter they fired on.

Birdie: I never played Fort Sumter.

Eve: Autograph fiends. They're not people. Those little beasts that run around in packs like coyotes.

Karen: They're your fans!

Margo: This is my dear friend and companion, Miss Birdie Coonan.

Birdie: Oh, brother!

Eve: Miss Coonan.

Lloyd Richards: Oh, brother, what?

Birdie: When she gets like this, all of the sudden she's playin' Hamlet's mother.

Margo: I'm sure you must have things to do in the bathroom, Birdie, dear.

Karen: Good luck, genius.

Bill Sampson: Geniuses don't need good luck. I do.

Margo: He can't take his eyes off my legs.

Bill Sampson: Like a nylon lemon peel.

Margo: Byron couldn't have said it more graciously.

Margo: Did she tell you about the theatre and what it meant?

Bill Sampson: No, I told her. I sounded off.

Margo: All the religions in the world rolled into one, and we're gods and goddesses.

Margo: Bill, don't get stuck on some glamour puss.

Bill Sampson: I'll try.

Margo: You're not much of a bargain, you know. You're conceited and thoughtless and messy.

Bill Sampson: Well, everybody can't be Gregory Peck.

Karen: Margo, nothing you've ever done has made me as happy your taking Eve in.

Margo: I'm so happy you're happy.

Margo: Liebestraum.

Pianist: I just played it.

Margo: Play it again.

Pianist: But that was the fourth straight time.

Margo: Then this will be five.

Margo: You disapprove of me when I'm like this, don't you?

Lloyd Richards: Not exactly. Sometimes, though, I wish I understood you better.

Margo: When you do, let me in on it.

Karen: Margo just doesn't miss performances. If she can walk, crawl or roll, she plays.

Eve: The show must go on.

Karen: No, dear. Margo must go on.

Miss Casswell: Now there's something a girl could make sacrifices for!

Bill Sampson: And probably has.

Miss Casswell: Sable!

Max Fabian: Sable? Did she say sable or Gable?

Miss Casswell: Either one.

Karen: Eve, you mustn't mind Margo too much, even if I do.

Eve: There must be some reason, something I've done without knowing.

Karen: The reason is Margo and don't try to figure it out. Einstein couldn't.

Addison DeWitt: Margo, I have lived in the theatre as a Trappist monk lives in his faith. I have no other world, no other life. And once in a great while, I experience that moment of revelation for which all true believers wait and pray. You were one. Jeanne Eagels another, Paula Wessely, Hayes. There are others, three or four. Eve Harrington will be among them.

Margo: I take it she read well.

Addison DeWitt: It wasn't a reading, it was a performance. Brilliant! Vivid, something made of music and fire.

Margo: How nice.

Addison DeWitt: In time, she'll be what you are.

Margo: A mass of music and fire. That's me. An old kazoo with some sparklers.

Addison DeWitt: Ah! Feeling better, my dear?

Miss Casswell: Like I just swam the English Channel. Now what?

Addison DeWitt: Your next move, it seems to me, should be towards television.

Addison DeWitt: The audition is over.

Margo: It can't be. I came here to read with Miss Casswell. I promised Max.

Addison DeWitt: The audition was at 2.30. It's now nearly four.

Margo: Is it really? I must start wearing a watch.

Karen: Bill is all of eight years younger than you.

Margo: Those years stretch as the years go on. I've seen it happen too often.

Karen: Not to you, not to Bill.

Margo: Isn't that what they always say?

Eve: I'm about to go into the shower. I won't be able to hear you.

Addison DeWitt: Well, it can wait. Where would you like to go? We must make this a special night.

Eve: You take charge.

Addison DeWitt: I believe I will.

Addison DeWitt: By the smartness of your dress I take it that your luncheon companion is a lady?

Karen: Margo.

Addison DeWitt: Margo lunching in public?

Karen: Oh, it's a new Margo; but, she's just as late as the old one.

Karen: I guess at this point I'm what the French call "de trop."

Bill Sampson: Maybe just a little around the edges.

Karen: It strikes me that Eve's disloyalty and ingratitude must be contagious!

Lloyd Richards: All this fuss and hysteria because of an impulsive kid got carried away by excitement and the conniving of a professional manure-slinger named DeWitt. She apologized, didn't she?

Karen: On her knees, I've no doubt!

Lloyd Richards: Margo and Bill want us to meet them in the Cub Room tonight after the theater for a bottle of wine.

Karen: Margo Channing in the Cub Room? I couldn't be more surprised if she'd said Grant's Tomb.

Karen: What are you going to wear?

Margo: Something simple, a fur coat over a nightgown.

Margo: Encore du champagne.

Waiter: More champagne, Miss Channing?

Margo: That's what I said, bub.

Eve: I'll never get over it.

Karen: Oh, yes, you will. You theatre people always do. Nothing is forever in the theatre. Whatever it is, it's here, it flares up, burns hot, and it's gone.

Eve: What a day. What a heavenly day!

Addison DeWitt: D-day.

Eve: Just like it.

Addison DeWitt: And tomorrow morning, you will have won your beachhead on the shores of immortality.

Eve: Stop rehearsing your column.

Eve: It'll be a night to remember. It'll bring me everything I've ever wanted. The end of an old road, the beginning of a new one.

Addison DeWitt: All paved with diamonds and gold?

Eve: You know me better than that.

Addison DeWitt: Paved with what, then?

Eve: Stars.

Addison DeWitt: Your name is not Eve Harrington. It's Gertrude Slescynski.

Eve: What of it?

Eve: Erasmus Hall. That's in Brooklyn, isn't it?

Phoebe: Well, lots of actresses come from Brooklyn. Barbara Stanwyck and Susan Hayward. Of course, they're just movie stars. You're going to Hollywood, aren't you?