Daffy: And you are an old lady, and a fool!
Granny: Yes…I was a fool to think you were ready.
Tweety: Ew! (tries to clean the cage)
Sylvester: Would you die already?!
Tweety: Fine! (gets a pillow and sits on it then whispers) I’m dead.
Duck Dodgers: [about Duck Dodgers Jr. (Plucky)] He would have checked in.
Dr. I.Q. Hi: Like you always do?
Dodgers: Good point.
I.Q.: Sometimes I don’t think you realize how alike you two have become.
[Commander X2 is about to take a bite from the last slice of pizza. Duck Dodgers takes it from him]
Duck Dodgers: Oh yeah!! Thanks, Marv! Don’t wanna sthtarve to death while sthaving the world!
X2: Let it be known that from this day until the end of the day, vengeance will be mine! Dodgers, you will not know the meaning of peace for I shall rain misery down upon your pizza-stealing heart!
[Boston Quackie (Daffy Duck) and Mary are standing in Inspector Faraway (Porky Pig)’s office after a gun fight broke out in a bar]
Faraway: W-w-w-one solid oak bar, s-s-s-sixteen tables, t-t-t-twelve ch-ch-chairs, one etched mirror, six by n-n-nine, one antique p-p-pool table, two doors, thirty-two bottles of l-l-liquor, and a B-B-B-Blue Ribbon neon clock. D-d-does this seem like a f-f-fairly accurate list of the damages, Quackie?
Quackie: I don’t believe the pool table was an antique, sthir.
Faraway: Oh, w-w-well we’ll never know now, will we? Because all that’s left is this b-b-bag of felt.
Quackie: I sthought refuge behind the item in question when the sthuthspect pointed a shotgun in my direction and fired repeatedly, sthir.
Faraway: S-s-s-suspect. I’m glad we finally got around to that because I would hate to think we were re-responsible for all this damage without a very good r-r-reason. You say you identified him by his nose?
Quackie: Yes, sthir.
Faraway: Y-you didn’t say something about his n-n-nose, causing him to fire repeatedly into the bar?
Quackie: Ah, no sthhir.
Faraway: Y-y-you just felt that his nose was so offensive that you decided to pursue and arre-arrest him?
Quackie: Inthspector, the sthuthspect is a known felon and you sthee, I had this hunch that–
Faraway: Y-y-you had a h-h-hunch? [laughs] A hunch! And you coupled your hunch with with your positive ide-identification of his n-n-nose? And this was the basis of your inve-investigation? An investigation which resulted in injury of s-s-seven people, three with gunshot w-w-wounds, two with broken limbs, one hospitalized with a c-c-concussion, and one who claims to have been bitten by a wolf.
Quackie: The wolf was just trying to help, sthir.
Faraway: [sarcastically] Th-th-they usually are!
Elmer: Shouldn’t you get the door?
Egghead: You’re closer.
Elmer: I don’t wive here.
Egghead: Doesn’t matter. You’re family.
Elmer: So’s Fuz…
Fuzzy Fudd: [interrupts] Oh no, you don’t!
Filbert Fudd: [from outside] Maybe if you slid me a key, I could let myself in.
Pepe (about his tattoo): Eet’ll come off when ah take a bath.
Penelope: My gosh, it is permanent.
Doorlock Holmes (Daffy Duck): [On being arrested] Hmm. Bit awkward, this.
Dr. Watkins (Porky Pig): Th-th-there’s no one to b-b-bail us.
Doorlock Holmes: I was thinking more about our imminent and daring ethscape.
Dr. Watkins: W-w-what?
[Doorlock grabs a police radio, sending all police headphones into feedback and alarm. In the chaos, he takes a gun from the nearest officer and waves it around]
Doorlock Holmes: Ladies and gentlemen, will you please all get on your knees? [Firing the gun in the air] Now would be good!
Horace: Do as he says, okay?
Dr. Watkins: J-j-j-just so you’re aware, the gun is h-h-his idea… I’m just, you know…
Doorlock Holmes: [suddenly pointing the gun at Watkins’ head] My hothstage!
Dr. Watkins: H-hostage! Yes. That w-w-works…
Witch Hazel: [after draining the Hall of Records clerk of her life energy] Youth is so wasted on the young. [looks around at the computers] Don’t these people believe in books anymore?
[During the re-enactment of the phone’s disappearance; Cicero got back in bed]
Cicero: Can I spit out my toothpaste?
Porky: W-w-w-why didn’t you spit it out in the b-b-b-bathroom?
Cicero: You said we had to just what we did before. I didn’t spit then now cause I didn’t spit then. And you know something?
Cicero: It’s hard to talk with your mouth full of toothpaste.