Tootsie

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for equality. Women ought to be entitled to everything and all, et cetera. Except sometimes I think what they really want is to be men.

Daisies are such homey flowers and rosebuds are so cheerful and always waiting to bloom.

— Did somebody die?
— Violinist.
— I didn't know he was that sick.
— He wasn't. He asked for a raise.

— That was two years ago, and that guy's an idiot!
— They can't all be idiots. You argue with everybody! You've got one of the worst reputations in this town. Nobody will hire you.
— Are you saying that nobody in New York will work with me?
— Nobody in Hollywood will either. I can't even get you a commercial. You played a tomato, and they went over schedule because you wouldn't sit.
— Yes, it wasn't logical.
— You were a tomato! A tomato doesn't have logic. It can't move!
— So if he can't move, how's he going to sit down? I was a stand-up tomato. A juicy, sexy, beefsteak tomato! Nobody does vegetables like me! I did vegetables off-Broadway! I did the best tomato, the best cucumber! I did an endive salad that knocked the critics on their ass!

— Will I ever see you again?
— We've known each other six years.
— I know. But sex changes things. I've had relationships where I know a guy, then have sex with him and then I bump into him and he acts like I loaned him money.

— The violin fell through the ice?!
— He was playing during the thaw.