“The prosecutor uttered the party line that would distinguish revue from burlesque for the next thirty years. "The difference is movement. On Broadway, unadorned female figures are used to artistic advantage in tableaux. They do not move.”

“With an utterly foreign sense of desperation, he did something that he’d never, in all his thirty-three years, thought he would do. He tripped her.”

“You see that thirty-year-old blonde next to Jake? That’s his fiancée, Carrie Clapboard. Carrie moved all manner of heaven and earth to get into that chair. And soon she will happily oversee scullery maids and table settings and the reupholstering of antique chairs at three different houses; which is all well and good. But if I were your age, I wouldn’t be trying to figure out how to get into Carrie’s shoes—I’d be trying to figure out how to get into Jake’s.”

“Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement.”

“What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon?” cried Daisy, “and the day after that, and the next thirty years?”

“I'm a woman. Forty-five in female years (which is about a hundred and thirty in male years - bastards).”