Snowbell Quotes in Stuart Little (1999)

Snowbell: Didn't your mother warn you that you shouldn't go out into Central Park at night?

Smokey: My mother was the reason you shouldn't go out into Central Park at night.

Snowbell: I lied, okay? Welcome to Manhattan!

Monty, the Mouth: Aren't you gonna' run?

Stuart Little: Why?

Monty, the Mouth: 'cause you're a mouse.

Stuart Little: I'm not just a mouse. I'm a member of this family.

Monty, the Mouth: A mouse with a pet cat?

[rolls over and laughs out loud, repeating that line over again]

Stuart Little: I guess that's pretty funny!

Monty, the Mouth: Pretty funny? I'm gonna wet my fur! A MOUSE WITH A PET CAT!

[laughs hard more, and looks down at Snowbell, who is embarrassed]

Monty, the Mouth: Your new little master? Wait 'til the boys hear all about this!

Snowbell: Ah, the humiliation!

[to Stuart]

Snowbell: I'm going to kill you!

Snowbell: You think you could help me?

Smokey: Consider it done.

Snowbell: Thank-you Mister Smokey sir, how could I ever think you?

Smokey: Don't worry Tinkerbell, anytime.

Snowbell: Tinkerbell! Ha Ha, He called me Tinkerbell! You're a funny guy!

Smokey: Yeah, whatever. HOUSE CATS, Sheesh!

Stuart Little: Now I know that fairy tales are real.

Snowbell: [From the top of the stairs] Fairy tales are real? Oy, I think I'm gonna cough up a furball.

Stuart Little: You seem tense!

Snowbell: Tense? Oh, I'm - I'm way, way past tense

Stuart Little: Well, maybe I could help. Can I scratch your ears? I could rub your tummy.

Snowbell: How'd you like to rub it from the INSIDE, mouse-boy?

Stuart Little: I'm a little confused. I thought that's what you did with a pet.

Snowbell: A Pet? I am not your pet! I'm a cat, you're a mouse. You should be livin' in a hole. This is my family.

Stuart Little: Can we share them?

Snowbell: Read my furry pink lips. "No!"

[Stuart is trapped in a washing machine which is filling up]

Stuart Little: Turn if off!

Snowbell: Why would I turn it off? It's my favorite show.

Snowbell: He's not just a mouse! He's... He's... he's family.

Smokey: Oh yeah. ha ha ha... I can see the resemblence...

[laughs evilly]

Snowbell: I can't believe I'm arguing with lunch.

Stuart Little: Snow, where are you going?

Snowbell: Oh, I gotta yawn, stare at traffic, lick myself. And believe me, that could take hours if you do it right.

[when Snowbell spots Stuart lying in bed]

Snowbell: Are you cozy?

Stuart Little: Yes, thanks. I'm quite comfortable.

Snowbell: All I've got to sleep on is a rag in the corner, you little rat!

Monty, the Mouth: You know, I'm not picky as long as it ain't meat loaf. That stuff gives me gas, something awful.

Snowbell: I'm sorry, it's meat loaf.

Monty, the Mouth: Oh well, beggars can't be choosers. Load me up and light a match!

Snowbell: [Monty tries to go into the kitchen, but Snowbell tries stopping him, so he won't see Stuart and possibly humiliate him] No, Monty. Stop. You don't wonna do that.

Monty, the Mouth: Why? I eat from garbage cans, drink from public toilets. Like a little gas is gonna bother me.

[he walks through the cat door to the kitchen]

Snowbell: No, wait. Don't!

Monty, the Mouth: [while Stuart is hugging Snowball] Snow, what's he doing to your leg? I can't help to think that this is wrong.

Smokey: What the hell's going on here?

Snowbell: Urrrrm... Listen, Smokey... I want to quit this whole thing off... okay?

Smokey: Too late!

Smokey: [pushes the branch Stuart's on down] Here you go, boys! Dinner's served!

Monty, the Mouth: Alright, Smokey! Way to go!

Stuart Little: Oh dear!

Lucky: Look, it's mouse on a stick! I love mouse on a stick!

Monty, the Mouth: A little further! Keep him comin'! Keep him comin'! Alright I can almost reach him! Keep him coming! I got him, he's mine!

[Snowbell snaps the branch]

Monty, the Mouth: What the? Hey, the branch is the gonna!

Snowbell: Well, what have we got here?

Monty, the Mouth: Snow, don't come out here, the branch is breaking!

Snowbell: Stuart, are you alright?

Stuart Little: Yeah, yeah I'm okay.

Snowbell: Just hang on, I'll take it from here!

Monty, the Mouth: Huh? Take what?

[Snowbell pushes the branch Monty's on with Red and Lucky on further]

Monty, the Mouth: Hey, c'mon Snow! You wouldn't do this to me? I'm not your old buddy?

Snowbell: Don't worry, buddy! I'm sure you'll land

[he pushes the branch further]

Monty, the Mouth: No, no Snow! What're you doing?

Snowbell: On your feet!

[the branch snaps sending Red, Lucky and Monty into the water]

Lucky, Monty, the Mouth, Red: Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!

[all three cats splash in the water]

Snowbell: Margalo? Where are you?

Margalo: [from inside a paint can where Falcon has her imprisoned] In the can!

Snowbell: Oh, OK. I'll wait.

Stuart Little: Little high, little low!

Mrs. Little: [from a distance] Little hey, little hoe.

Margalo: What the heck was that?

Stuart Little: Oh, that's just how we greet each other.

Margalo: Interesting.

Snowbell: Nauseating is more like it.

Snowbell: I wish I were the one that was dead!

Margalo: Really?

Snowbell: No. But I'm feeling very unhappy!

Snowbell: What's wrong with giving up?... and just think of the time you save!

Snowbell: You've got guts, kid! And you've got spunk! Not to mention moxy! You've got guts, spunk, and moxy!

Snowbell: I'm telling ya', Stuart, if more people gave up, there'd be fewer wars.

Stuart Little: Don't worry about Snowbell. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

[Outside, Snowbell catches a fly, eats it]

Snowbell: [burps] Oh, those flies really come back on ya!

Falcon: I'll be back for you, furball.

Snowbell: Don't hurry.

Snowbell: [looking down on New York City, while climbing very high; and thinking about the mean falcon at the same time] I hope I live to regret this.

Stuart Little: [after Margalo disappears] She's in terrible trouble, and I have to help her. I mean, what am I, a man or a

[pause]

Stuart Little: mouse?

Snowbell: Uh... is that a trick question?

Stuart Little: [using a pay phone] Snowbell, I need more change.

Snowbell: What do I look like, a fanny pack?

Snowbell: [after Stuart wakes him up] This better be important.

Stuart Little: Margalo's still missing.

Snowbell: I should have been more specific. I meant important to me.

Stuart Little: How can you think of eating at a time like this?

Snowbell: Look, I'm nervous. And when I'm nervous I eat. 'Cuz I know, in my growling gut, that if anything happens to you, I'll be blamed. I'm sure the Littles already know we're gone and are planning to replace me with a hampster.

[Stuart has started the plane by accident; George and Will are playing a video game upstairs]

Will: Hey, what's that noise?

George Little: Sounds like a lawn mower.

Will: Inside the house?

Will, George Little: [alarmed] Stuart!

[the boys rush downstairs to find the plane has started with Stuart in the cockpit]

George Little: Stuart, what are you doing?

Stuart Little: I'm not doing anything!

George Little: Pull the break!

[Stuart pulls the break, and flies to another part of the house]

Stuart Little: [to George] Get the book!

Will: This is cool. All my brother does is jam crayons up his nose.

George Little: [reading the instruction booklet] It says here, "On takeoff, pull back on the throttle".

Stuart Little: "Take off"? I'm already in the air!

[Stuart flies over George and Will's heads]

Stuart Little: Snowbell, get out of the way!

Snowbell: [running] Please don't hurt me!

[Mr. Little is upstairs]

Fredrick Little: [to George and Will] What's going on?

Will: Oh, nothing. Stuart is just flying in the house.

[Mr. Little sighs, but then becomes alarmed]

Fredrick Little: [shouting] Flying in the house?

George Little: At least he's indoors, nothing bad can happen.

Stuart Little: Watch out! Hit the dirt!

[Stuart flies over the boys' heads again, as Mrs. Little opens the door, holding a bouquet of flowers]

Mrs. Little: [as Stuart crashes into the flowers] Stuart!

[Snowball hissing at Margalo, starts coughing]

Snowbell: Oh, oh! Hairball! Major hairball! And yet we continue to lick ourselves. Unbelievable!

Snowbell: Now, pay attention. What do you know about a bird called 'Falcon'?

Monty: Falcon? Ooh, that's a bad guy. You don't wanna fool with him.

Stuart Little: You know where we can find him?

Monty: You don't wanna find him. You don't want anything to do with him. Trust me. He'd eat you so fast, you'd be a pile of falcon poop before you could yell for help. Falcons are vicious. They grab you by the back of the neck and carry you so high you can't even see the ground, and then they drop you. And by the time you hit the pavement, they just drink what's left through a straw.

Stuart Little: Snowbell, are you all right?

Snowbell: Oh sure. In fact, I no longer need a litterbox.

Monty: [laughs] Mop up on aisle three! Snowy!

Snowbell: [trying to get the Littles' attention] Ho little, hoo wittle, hey wattle...

[when asked to clean up Martha's spilled oatmeal]

Snowbell: Oh, great, it's glop. Look what I'm reduced to. I'm a Handi-Wipe with hair.

Snowbell: [Stuart's car has broken down] This is a sign, like the burning bush, except this a carburetor and I'm not Moses

Stuart Little: [as Stuart and Snowbell are out searching for Margalo] Don't worry, George is covering for us!

Snowbell: George? George doesn't know poop from applesauce! And I say that with a great deal of affection!

Snowbell: This is a sign, Stuart, like the burning bush, except its a carberator and I'm not Moses. But it's telling us something: Let your people go!

Stuart Little: We're not giving up!

Snowbell: Cats don't eat raisins! We have too much class. We eat fish byproducts. Also, I... need to go tinky.

Stuart Little: How about the alley?

Snowbell: An alley? I'm a cat! We're fastidious creatures. We use a litter box. We don't just yell 'Bombs away' and go wherever we are!

[Mr. Little is struggling to get a jar of pickles open]

Mrs. Little: Do you need...

Fredrick Little: Could you?

[Mrs. Little pops the top off the pickle jar]

Fredrick Little: [Martha throws her dish on the floor]

Mrs. Little: [grabbing Martha from her high chair] OK, that's it for you.

Mrs. Little: [to Snowbell] Snow, food.

Snowbell: [running down the stairs] "Food"? Is it tuna or herring? Or dare I say it, is it lox? Oh, please be lox!

Mrs. Little: [to Snowbell; Picks up the bowl leaving the food] Snow, that's for you.

Fredrick Little: How about it, boys? Are you ready to play some soccer?

Stuart Little: You bet, Dad!

Snowbell: [disgusted] Oh, it's glop. Look what I'm reduced to. I'm a handy wipe with hair.