Billy: I don't want a childhood. I want to be a ballet dancer.
Billy: So, what's it like, like?
Dad: What's what like?
Dad: I don't know, son. I never made it past Durham.
Billy: Have you never been?
Dad: Why would I want to go to London?
Billy: It's the capital city.
Dad: Well, there are no mines in London.
Billy: Jesus Christ, is that all you think about?
Debbie: If you want, I'll show you me fanny.
Billy: Nah, I'm all right.
Tony: Dance you little twat.
Mrs. Wilkinson: Please yourself, darlin'.
Billy: I don't want to do your stupid fucking audition! You only want me to do it for your own benefit.
Billy: All right, all right, don't lose your blob.
Billy: Just because I like ballet doesn't mean I'm a poof, you know.
Gary Poulson: What are you deeing man? This is hand to hand combat not a bloody tea dance.
Tutor 1: What does it feel like when you're dancing?
Billy: Don't know. Sorta feels good. Sorta stiff and that, but once I get going... then I like, forget everything. And... sorta disappear. Sorta disappear. Like I feel a change in my whole body. And I've got this fire in my body. I'm just there. Flyin' like a bird. Like electricity. Yeah, like electricity.
Mr. Braithwaite: You look like a right wanker to me, son.