Sister Claire: Hello.
Martin Sixsmith: Oh hello.
Sister Claire: I'm Sister Claire.
Martin Sixsmith: Yes, hello... I was just admiring your picture of Jayne Mansfield.
Sister Claire: No, that's Jane Russell. Jayne Mansfield was the blonde one.
Martin Sixsmith: Yes, of course. They were both very big... I mean, the two of them... huge... their careers.
Philomena: Sister Hildegarde, I want you to know that I forgive you.
Martin Sixsmith: What? Just like that?
Philomena: Its not 'just like that'... it's hard. That's hard for me. But I don't want to hate people. I don't want to be like you... Look at you.
Martin Sixsmith: I'm angry.
Philomena: Must be exhausting.
Sister Hildegarde: The Lord Jesus Christ will be my judge - not the likes of you.
Martin Sixsmith: Really? Because I think if Jesus was here right now he'd tip you out of that fucking wheelchair - and you wouldn't get up and walk.
Martin Sixsmith: The Catholic Church should go to confession, not you.
Philomena: I forgive you because I don't want to remain angry.
Martin Sixsmith: I don't believe in God, and I think He knows.
Philomena: I remember that day at the fair. His father made me laugh by pretending to be an old man and I made him laugh by pretending to be an old woman. Now I am one, and I'll never know if Anthony ever even thought about me. And I'll never be able to say sorry.
Martin Sixsmith: Its funny isn't it? All the pieces of paper designed to help you find him have been destroyed, but guess what, the one piece of paper designed to stop you finding him has been lovingly preserved. God and his infinite wisdom decided to spare that from the flames.
Martin Sixsmith: Well... I couldn't forgive you.