An American dancer comes to Britain and falls for a model whom he initially annoyed, but she mistakes him for his goofy producer.

Madge Hardwick: My dear, when you're as old as I am, you take your men as you find them - if you can find them.
Dale Tremont: Madge, have you any objections if I scare your husband so that he'll never look at another woman?
Madge Hardwick: Dale, no husband is ever too scared to look.
Jerry Travers: In dealing with a girl or horse, one just lets nature take its course.
Alberto Beddini: As Mrs. Adam, what would you wear?
Dale Tremont: Fig leaves!
Dale Tremont: I still feel a little guilty, being here with you while Alberto is out looking for us.
Jerry Travers: Come on! Let's eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we have to face him.
Jerry Travers: Are you afraid of thunder?
Dale Tremont: Oh, no. It's just the noise.
Jerry Travers: You know what thunder is, don't you?
Dale Tremont: Of course. It's something about the air.
Jerry Travers: No, no. When a clumsy cloud from here meets a fluffy little cloud from there, he billows towards her. She scurries away and he scuds right up to her. She cries a little and there you have you showers. He comforts her. They spark. That's the lightning. They kiss. Thunder.
[talking about the horse]
Dale Treemont: Who was his dam?
Jerry Travers: What?
Dale Treemont: I said, who was his dam?
Jerry Travers: I don't know miss, he didn't give a...
Horace Hardwick: Mr. Travers is in trouble. He has practically put his foot right into a hornets' nest.
Bates: But hornets' nests grow on trees, sir.
Horace Hardwick: Never mind that. We have got to do something.
Bates: What about rubbing it with butter, sir?
Horace Hardwick: You blasted fool, you can't rub a girl with butter!
Bates: My sister got into a hornets' nest and we rubbed HER with butter, sir!
Horace Hardwick: That's the wrong treatment, you should've used mud - Never mind that!
Jerry Travers: All is fair in love and war, and this is revolution!
Dale Tremont: How could I have ever fallen in love with a man like you!
[Dale slaps Jerry, then storms off]
Jerry Travers: She loves me.
Alberto Beddini: Never again will I allow WOMEN to wear my dresses!
Alberto Beddini: I promised my dresses that I would take them to Venice and that you would be in them!
Bates: [to Jerry] Allow us to introduce ourselves, sir. We are Bates.
Alberto Beddini: You are in this plot. You are cahooting with him!
Bates: Sic transit gloria mundi. "Thus passes the glory of the world."
Madge Hardwick: You know, as long as you remain a spinster you'll remain a target for every philandering male. You should really get a husband to call your own.
Jerry Travers: I think I feel an attack coming on. There's only one thing that can stop me.
Dale Tremont: Why, you must tell me what it is!
Jerry Travers: My nurses always put their arms around me.
[He is reading a telegram]
Alberto Beddini: 'Come ahead. stop. Stop being a sap. stop. You can even bring Alberto. stop. My husband is stopping at your hotel. stop. when do you start. stop.' I cannot understand who wrote this.
Dale Tremont: Sounds like Gertrude Stein.
Horace Hardwick: What kind of plane?
Jerry Travers: One with wings!
Dale Tremont: What is this strange power you have over horses?
Jerry Travers: [thinks] Horsepower?
Dale Tremont: I dropped up from the room below where I've been trying to get some sleep!
Jerry Travers: Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize I was disturbing you. You see, every once in a while I suddenly find myself... dancing.
Dale Tremont: Oh, I suppose it's some kind of an affliction.
Jerry Travers: [realising why Dale has been behaving so peculiarly] She's been mistaking me for you this whole time.
Madge Hardwick: Well, no wonder she said he was interesting.
Horace Hardwick: Yes, no wonder... I resent that!
Horace Hardwick: You know how wives are.
Jerry Travers: No I don't. How are they?
Bates: We are Bates.
Dale Tremont: I hate men! I hate you! I hate all men!
Horace Hardwick: You mean to sit there and tell me that that girl slapped your face in front of all those people for nothing?
Jerry Travers: Well, what would you have done? Sold tickets?