Expectant Father : Are you a taxi?
Charlie Hawkins : No.
[pointing at the vehicle] 
Charlie Hawkins : *This* is a taxi.
[pointing at himself] 
Charlie Hawkins : *I'm* a driver.
[pointing at Pintpot] 
Charlie Hawkins : *He's* a learner.
[pointing at the expectant father] 
Charlie Hawkins : And *you're* a twit. Now get out of the way, I'm in a hurry.
Expectant Father : No, no, you must help me. It's my wife - she's going to have a baby.
Charlie Hawkins : And if I don't get home by seven, mine's gonna have a fit.
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[after Charlie gives her a fur coat] 
Peggy Hawkins : Oh, Charlie! Oh, it's lovely!
Charlie Hawkins : I'll say it is. Genuine mammoth, that is.
Peggy Hawkins : Oh, don't be silly, Charlie.
Charlie Hawkins : Straight up, it said so on the shop window: "Mammoth fur sale."
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Charlie Hawkins : When you get to be a cab driver you cut yourself right off from the rest of the human race. Everybody's got it in for you and nobody loves you. In no time at all you find that you're about as popular as a wickerwork seat in a nudist camp, and you know what sort of impression that makes on people.
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[Charlie goes to the Glamcabs office and discovers who "Mrs Glam" really is] 
Charlie Hawkins : You! So that's it. Gor blimey. What a mug I've been.
Peggy Hawkins : Charlie, please, I know what you're thinking.
Charlie Hawkins : Good, then it saves telling you, Mrs Glam!
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[Charlie, not knowing that Peggy is running Glamcabs, tells her all about the planned sabotage] 
Peggy Hawkins : What you're going to do is wrong, Charlie!
Charlie Hawkins : All right, so it's wrong, Charlie! And I'm a right Charlie!
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[last line - Pintpot has made Charlie swerve and hit a tree. His taxi is undriveable] 
Charlie Hawkins : Call me a cab!
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