Hildy Johnson, after a recent divorce from Walter Burns, informs him that she plans to remarry and resign from her job. Her job happens to be working for a major Chicago newspaper which Burns is the editor of. In an attempt to prevent her resignation and to get her back in his arms, he assigns Hildy one last big story.
Walter Burns: I'd know you anytime, anyplace, anywhere.
Hildy Johnson: Of course he had to have a gun to re-enact the crime with. And who do you think supplied it? Peter B. Hartwell. B For brains.
Sheriff Hartwell: Stop calling me that. I have a real name, see? And it's Peter B. Hartwell.
First Reporter: What's the B. for?
Second Reporter: Bull.
Bruce Baldwin: Nice little town, Albany. They've got a state capital there, you know.
Walter Burns: I sort of wish you hadn't done that Hildy...Makes a fellow lose all faith in himself. Gives him, well, it gives him a feeling he's not wanted.
Hildy Johnson: Now look, Junior, that's what divorces are for.
Walter Burns: There's been a lamp burning in the window for ya, honey.
Hildy Johnson: No thanks -- I jumped out that window a long time ago.
Walter Burns: Well, it would have worked out if you'd been satisfied with just being and editor and reporter. But not you; you had to go marry me and spoil everything.
Walter Burns: We've been in worse jams than this, haven't we, Hildy?
Hildy Johnson: No.
Walter Burns: I intended to be with you on our honeymoon, Hildy, honest I did.
Walter Burns: What do you think I am, a crook?
Hildy Johnson: Yes.
Walter Burns: Take Hitler and stick him on the funny page.
Walter Burns: Listen, you insignificant, square-toed, pimpled-headed spy.
Hildy Johnson: Walter, you're wonderful, in a loathsome sort of way.
Walter Burns: Well, I don't want to brag, but I've still got the dimple in the same place.
Hildy Johnson: Look, there's this old newspaper superstition that the first big check you cash, you hide it in the lining of your hat.
Reporter: I've been a reporter for 25 years and I've never heard that.
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