Dallas

Melinda: Duke Carlisle may be the terror of Dallas, but I'm his little pussycat. You'd be amazed how much influence I have over him. One word from me and you can kiss your big deal good-bye. James: What do you have against me? Melinda: You don't get it, do you? James: No. Melinda: When I aim for something, I hit it—dead center. I want you in my bed, James Beaumont. And what I want around here, I get.

Bobby: I know, with the way I've been acting, I have no right to ask you this, but I'm going to ask anyway. April, please wait for me. April: (crying) Who do you think I am? Saint April the martyr? When you walked through that door, my heart just filled. I thought, "Thank God, he finally came to apologize. We can live happily ever after." And now I have to deal with this "getting over Pam" crap! I can't take this anymore!

J.R.: You got a deal? James: That's right. A big fat one. J.R.: An oil deal? James: (laughing) Nah, I don't even use oil in my car anymore.

J.R.: Hey, James. James, great news. We got ourselves a gusher down in Pride. James: Oh, that's good. J.R.: Good? It's great! And there's a hell of a story that goes with it. I can't wait to tell you, son. James: Yeah. Who'd you have to sleep with to make it gush?

Michelle: God created men just to aggravate us, especially when we're on a roll. But now we're fighting back. I mean, forget the chocolates. Forget the romance novels. Let's channel our energies into business. Create an empire by women for women! April: All you need is a marching band and Old Glory waving above your head.

J.R.: (to Blackie) You couldn't find oil under the hood of my car if I handed you a gold-plated dip stick.