- Wilma Flintstone: Don't tell me you've never married, Greta. You were the most popular girl in school.
- Greta: Oh I guess my standards were too high. I played hard to get and, well... I just didn't get got.
- Mr. Slate: Ah, Flintstone, come in, come in. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Do you smoke cigars?
- Fred Flintstone: Yes, sir.
- Mr. Slate: Good, let me have one of yours. I'm fresh out.
- [Fred is reluctant to take out the female buyer]
- Mr. Slate: Well, I can't call it off now. Might lose the whole account. It'll slow things down. I guess you'll have to ask your wife to join. I'll change the club reservation to three.
- Fred Flintstone: My wife's out of town, visiting her mother.
- Mr. Slate: Well, then there's no problem. Your wife will understand.
- Fred Flintstone: Not my wife. I can't do that. I love my wife.
- Mr. Slate: I love mine, too... I keep telling myself.