Rita : So, what am I doing in a place like this?
Shaft : Why don't you tell me.
Rita : Why don't you take your things off.
Rita : You sure are a hard man to find.
Shaft : Too many people lookin' for me, baby.
[points to his car]
Shaft : Look, can you drive that thing?
Rita : Anything with a stick shift is my meat.
Shaft : Is that right?
Shaft : Obviously, you're not a friend of the famiiy.
Rita : Not any more, I'm not. Not after a nasty slap in the face.
Shaft : Best thing for that is an ice pack.
Rita : Why thank you, Mr. Shaft. Why don't you come in and show me how to apply it.
Shaft : You might catch cold.
Rita : I suppose its immodest of me to walk around like this in front of a stranger. But, any enemy of John Kelly's, is an old friend of mine.
Rita : Hey, is that snow?
Shaft : It sho ain't cotton.
Rita : Do you have to go?
Shaft : Gotta split, baby.
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