The AristoCats

The AristoCats Quotes

With the help of a smooth talking tomcat, a family of Parisian felines set to inherit a fortune from their owner try to make it back home after a jealous butler kidnaps them and leaves them in the country.

Napoleon: Lafayette! Lafayette, listen.
Lafayette: Oh, shucks, Napoleon. That ain't nothin' more but a little ol' cricket bug.
Napoleon: It's squeaky shoes approachin'.
Lafayette: Oh, cricket bugs don't wear shoes.
Napoleon: Hush your mouth! Let's see. They're Oxford shoes, size nine and a half. Hole in the left sole, it sounds like.
Lafayette: What color are they?
Napoleon: Why, they're black... Ah, now how would I know that?
Marie: Ladies don't start fights, but they can finish them!
Marie: Me first! Me first!
Toulouse the Orange Kitten: Why should you be first?
Marie: Because I'm a lady. That's why.
Toulouse the Orange Kitten: Oh, you're not a lady.
Berlioz the Kitten: You're nothing but a sister!
Thomas O'Malley: Why, your eyes are like sapphires sparkling so bright. They make the morning radiant and light.
Marie: How romantic.
Berlioz the Kitten: Sissy stuff.
Duchess: Oh, c'est très jolie, monsieur. Very poetic. But it is not quite Shakespeare.
Thomas O'Malley: 'Course not. That's pure O'Malley, baby. Right off the cuff. Yeah. I got a million of 'em.
Napoleon: It's a motorcycle. Two cylinder. Chain drive. One squeaky wheel, on the front, it sounds like. Now you go for the tires, and I'll go right for the seat of the problem.
Lafayette: How come you always grab the tender part for yourself?
Napoleon: 'Cause I outrank you, that's why. Now, stop beatin' your gums and sound the attack.
[Lafayette barks]
Napoleon: No, that's mess call.
Lafayette: Made a mess of it, huh?
Napoleon: You can be replaced, you know.
[Berlioz has been scared by a frog]
Duchess: Oh, darling. That's only a little frog, my love.
Berlioz the Kitten: But he had a mouth like a "hippolotamus."
Napoleon: [listening] You're not gonna believe this, but it's a one wheel hay stack!
[Edgar is listening in on Madame discussing her will]
Madame Adelaide Bonfamille: As you know, I have no living relatives, and I want my cats to be well taken care of. And who can do that better than my faithful servant, Edgar?
Georges Hautecourt: Edgar? Adelaide, you mean you're giving your vast fortune to Edgar?All your stocks and bonds, this-this mansion, your country chateau, your jewels and gems...?
Madame Adelaide Bonfamille: No, no, no, George. To my cats.
Georges Hautecourt: To your cats?
Edgar: [gasping] Cats?
Madame Adelaide Bonfamille: Yes. I just wish for the cats to inherit first. Then at the end of their life span, the entire estate reverts to Edgar.
Edgar: Cats inherit first, and I come after the cats! After I... oh. It's not fair!
[Stands up, hits head on intercom]
Edgar: Ooh! I mean, each cat will live about twelve years, I can't wait... and each cat has nine lives! That's four times twelve, times nine... No, it's less than that. Anyway, that's more than I'll ever live. I'll be gone! No, oh, no. They'll be gone. I'll think of a way. After all, there are millions of reasons why I should. All of them dollars. Millions. Those cats have got to go!
Thomas O'Malley: You know something? I like Uncle Waldo.
Duchess: [laughs] Especially when he's marinated.
Lafayette: Okay, let's charge!
Napoleon: Wait a minute. I'm the leader! I'm the one that says when we go.
[pause]
Napoleon: Here we go. Charge!
Abigail Gabble: Your husband is very charming and very handsome.
Thomas O'Malley: Well, you see, I'm not exactly her husband.
Amelia Gabble: Exactly? Either you are or you're not.
Thomas O'Malley: All right. I'm not.
Abigail Gabble, Amelia Gabble: Oh?
Amelia Gabble: He's scandalous.
Abigail Gabble: Indeed
Amelia Gabble: He's absolutely positively a reprobate.
Abigail Gabble: A roue.
Amelia Gabble: His eyes are too close together.
Abigail Gabble: Very shifty, too.
Amelia Gabble: And look at his crooked smile!
Abigail Gabble: His chin is very weak, too.
Amelia Gabble: Obviously a philanderer who triffles with unsuspecting women's hearts.
Marie: How romantic.
[last lines]
Lafayette: Hey, Napoleon. That sounds like the end.
Napoleon: Wait a minute. I'm the leader, I say when it's the end.
[the title "The End" bumps into Napoleon's head]
Napoleon: It's the end.
Amelia Gabble: I am Amelia Gabble. And this is my sister.
Abigail Gabble: Abigail Gabble.
Amelia Gabble: We're twin sisters.
Abigail Gabble: In fact, you could say we're related.
Abigail Gabble: Amelia, if I walk any further, I'll get flat feet.
Amelia Gabble: Abigail, we were born with flat feet.
Uncle Waldo: It's outrageous! Why, you won't believe what they tried to do to your poor Uncle Waldo. Look! Look at this!
[reading from menu of Le Petit Cafe]
Uncle Waldo: "Prime Country Goose A la Provencale, stuffed with chestnuts"...? "And basted in white wine." Hic!
Thomas O'Malley: Basted? He's been marinated in it.
Uncle Waldo: Dreadful! Being British, I would've preferred sherry.
Duchess: Thomas, this is Amelia and Abigail Gabble.
Thomas O'Malley: Yeah, honey. Get those two web-footed lifeguards out of here.
Duchess: Now, now, Thomas.
Thomas O'Malley: Okay. Okay, baby.
[to the geese]
Thomas O'Malley: Hiya, chicks.
[Abigail and Amelia Gabble laugh]
Abigail Gabble: We're not chickens. We're geese.
Thomas O'Malley: [sarcastically] No. I thought you were swans.
Scat Cat: What's a little swinger like you doing on our side of town?
Roquefort the Mouse: Please! I was sent for help, by a cat.
Scat Cat: Why that's outrageous! It's crazy!
[cats laugh]
Roquefort the Mouse: But honest! He said just to mention his name.
Russian Cat: So, start mentioning name, rodent.
Roquefort the Mouse: Now, don't rush me, fellas. His name is... O'Toole.
Scat Cat: I don't dig him. Strike one.
Roquefort the Mouse: O'Brian?
Scat Cat: Strike two.
Roquefort the Mouse: Oh boy... You believe me, don't you?
English Cat: Keep talkin', Mousey.
Roquefort the Mouse: How about... O'... Grady?
Scat Cat: [reveals a claw] Mousey, you've just struck out.
[Holds it close to him]
Scat Cat: Any last words?
Roquefort the Mouse: [looks terrified, then frustrated] Oh, why did I ever listen to that O'Malley cat?
Scat Cat: O'Malley?
English Cat, Italian Cat: O'Malley?
Russian Cat: O'Malley?
Scat Cat: Hold it, cats! This little guy's on the level.
Roquefort the Mouse: You're darn tootin' I'm on the level!
Italian Cat: We didn't mean-a to ruff-a ya, squeaky!
Roquefort the Mouse: Don't worry about me, O'Malley needs help, Duchess and the kittens are in trouble!
[All the cats then start running out of the alley]
Scat Cat: Come on, cats! We gotta split!
Napoleon: Now the squeaking has stopped.
Lafayette: I still say it was a little ol' cricket bug.
Napoleon: Wait a minute. I'm the leader. I decide what it was.
[pause]
Napoleon: It was a little ol' cricket bug.
[Edgar tries to grab his hat from off of Napoleon's head, but it lands on Lafayette]
Napoleon: [grabbing the hat] That's *my* hat! I'm the leader!
[puts it back on his head]
Lafayette: Well, shoot fire! Don't get sore at me! I ain't done nothing!
Duchess: Monsieur O'Malley, you could have lost your life.
Thomas O'Malley: So I have a few to spare. Nothing.
Marie: [Sitting on the piano] I'm ready, Maestro.
[Berlioz slides on the keys, and Marie's tail is pinched]
Marie: Ow! Mama, he did it again!
Berlioz the Kitten: Tattletale.
Napoleon: Where's my hat? Where? And somebody stole my bumbershoot!
Lafayette: Well, where's my beddy-bye basket?
Napoleon: And whoever it is, is gonna get it and get it good!
Lafayette: And this time, *I* get the tender part.
Napoleon: Hush your mouth! Now come on!
Duchess: Berlioz, come back here. Haven't you forgotten something, darling?
Berlioz the Kitten: Thank you, Miss Frou-Frou, for letting me ride on your back.
Frou-Frou the Carriage-Horse: You're quite welcome, young man.
[Berlioz turns to his mama]
Berlioz the Kitten: How was that, Mama?
Duchess: Very good, darling. That was very nice.
Uncle Waldo: Now, girls, don't go shooshing your old Uncle Waldo! Why, you'll wake up the whole neighborhood!
[shouts]
Uncle Waldo: Whoopee!
Thomas O'Malley: That's quite a family. Come to think of it, O'Malley, you're not a cat, you're a rat. Right? Right.
Scat Cat: Here you go, small fry. Blow it.
[Berlioz blows hard on a trumpet playing a very sour note]
Chinese Cat: Boy, he blew it!
[chuckles]
Italian Cat: But he was close.
Georges Hautecourt: [Trips and almost falls] Whoops! Not as spry as I was when I was eighty.
Chinese Cat: Shang-hai Hong Kong egg fu yung! Fortune cookie always wrong!
Georges Hautecourt: Come on, Edgar. Last one upstairs is a nincompoop.
Edgar: Could we take the elevator this time, sir?
Georges Hautecourt: That birdcage? Poppycock! Elevators are for old people. Whoops!
[Hautecourt almost falls back, Edgar catches him]
Edgar: May I give you a hand, sir?
Georges Hautecourt: You wouldn't have an extra foot, would you, Edgar?
Thomas O'Malley: Boy! Your eyes *are* like sapphires.
Abigail Gabble: [instructing the cats on how to walk] Now, think goose.
[Berlioz compares an unsightly painting to Edgar and laughs]
Duchess: Now, Berlioz, that is not kind. You know Edgar is so fond of us, and takes very good care of us.
[Cut to Edgar emptying a bottle of sleeping pills into the cats' milk while singing to himself]
Berlioz the Kitten: We were just practicing biting and clawing.
Duchess: Aristocats do not practice biting and clawing, and things like that. It's just horrible.
Toulouse the Orange Kitten: But someday, we might meet a tough alley cat.
Scat Cat: [singing] Everybody wants to be a cat / Because a cat's the only cat who knows where it's at.
Thomas O'Malley: Tell me! Everyone is picking up on that feline beat / 'Cause everything else is obsolete.
Scat Cat: Strictly high-buttoned shoes.
Uncle Waldo: Birds of a feather must *hic* together!
Chinese Cat: Shanghai, Hong Kong, Egg foo young / Fortune cookie always wrong. Oh, that a hot one!
Toulouse the Orange Kitten: I told you it was Edgar.
Berlioz the Kitten: Aw, shut up, Toulouse.
Thomas O'Malley: Humans don't really worry too much about their pets.
Thomas O'Malley: First, to make the magic begin, you wiggle your nose, and you tickle your chin. Now close your eyes, and cross your heart, and presto! - breakfast, à la carte.
Thomas O'Malley: Aloha, auf Wiedersehen, bon soir, sayonara, and all those good bye things, baby.
Edgar: [his last words] You're going to Timbuktu if it's the last thing I do.
Chinese Cat: Oh boy, fellas! Let's rock the joint!
Russian Cat: Ha, ha! Groovy cats!
Edgar: Morning, Frou-Frou, my pretty steed.
[whispers]
Edgar: Can you keep a secret?
[out loud]
Edgar: Of course you can.
[chuckles]
Edgar: I've some news straight from the horse's mouth. If you'll pardon the expression, of course.

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