"They know him - and they shiver - the big names of Broadway, Hollywood and Capitol Hill. They know J.J.- the world-famed columnist whose gossip is gospel to sixty million readers! They know the venom that flickers in those eyes behind the glasses - and they fawn - like Sid Falco, the kid who wanted "in" so much, he'd sell out his own girl to stand up there with J.J., sucking in the sweet smell of success! This is J.J.'s story - but not the way he would have liked it told!"

"The Motion Picture That Will Never Be Forgiven... Or Forgotten!"

"The almighty J.J. ...the columnist with sixty million believers ...his wrath is feared by the great and near great who worship the sweet smell of success!"

"This is the story of J.J. - But not the way he wants it told!"

"The next time you want information, don't scratch for it like a dog, ask for it like a man!"

"I'd rather be dead than living with you. For all the things you've done, J.J., I know I should hate you. But I don't. I pity you."

"Sidney, this syrup you're giving out with... you pour over waffles, not J. J. Hunsecker."

"You sound happy, Sidney. Why should you be happy when I'm not?"

"Don't remove the gangplank, Sidney - you may wanna get back on board."

"I'd hate to take a bite outta you. You're a cookie full of arsenic."

"Son, I don't relish shooting a mosquito with an elephant gun, so why don't you just shuffle along?"

"Four years ago, something terrible happened here. We did nothing about it. Nothing! The whole town fell into a sort of settled melancholy, and all the people in it closed their eyes, and held their tongues, and failed the test with a whimper. And now something terrible's going to happen again. And, in a way, we're lucky because we've been given a second chance."

"Judith Anderson - Mrs. Ann Treadwell"

"Vincent Price - Shelby Carpenter"

"Clifton Webb - Waldo Lydecker"

"Dana Andrews - Det. Lt. Mark McPherson"

"Gene Tierney - Laura Hunt"

"[about Shelby] He's no good, but he's what I want. I'm not a nice person, Laura, and neither is he. He knows I know he's just what he is. He also knows that I don't care. We belong together because we're both weak and can't seem to help it. That's why I know he's capable of murder. He's like me."

"I don't know a lot about anything, but I know a little about practically everything."

"I can afford a blemish on my character but not on my clothes."

"Her career began with my endorsement of the pen. I secured other endorsements for her, introduced her to important clients. I gave her her start. But it was her own talent and imagination that enabled her to rise to the top of her profession and stay there. She had an eager mind always. She was always quick to seize upon anything that would improve her mind or her appearance. Laura had innate breeding. But she deferred to my judgment and taste. I selected a more attractive hairdress for her. I taught her what clothes were more becoming to her. Through me, she met everyone - the famous and the infamous. Her youth and beauty, her poise and charm of manner captivated them all. She had warmth, vitality. She had authentic magnetism. Wherever we went, she stood out. Men admired her. Women envied her. She became as well-known as Waldo Lydecker's walking stick and his white carnation. On Tuesday and Friday nights, we stayed home, dining quietly, listening to my records. I read my articles to her. The way she listened was more eloquent than speech. These were the best nights."

"I don't use a pen. I write with a goose quill dipped in venom.....I'll neither consider, endorse, or use the Wallace pen. I hate pens. If your employers wish me to publish that statement in my column, you may tell them that I shall be delighted to oblige."

"[to Laura] Young woman, either you have been raised in some incredibly rustic community where good manners are unknown or you suffer from the common feminine delusion that the mere fact of being a woman exempts you from the rules of civilized conduct, or possibly both."

"I shall never forget the weekend Laura died. A silver sun burned through the sky like a huge magnifying glass. It was the hottest Sunday in my recollection. I felt as if I were the only human being left in New York. For Laura's horrible death, I was alone. I, Waldo Lydecker, was the only one who really knew her. And I had just begun to write Laura's story when - another of those detectives came to see me. I had him wait. I could watch him through the half-open door. I noted that his attention was fixed upon my clock. There was only one other in existence, and that was in Laura's apartment in the very room where she was murdered."

"Walter Sande - Sam, Cafe Proprietor"