Tubbs: We could kill them all.
Edward: Ha ha. Oh, Tubbs. You're good hearted.
Tubbs: Look Edward, a freak show. Shall we take David?
Edward: No Tubbs, we don't want to frighten them.
Tubbs: Don't touch the things, this is a local shop for local people, there's nothing for you here.
Mickey: What time is it, Ross?
Ross: You've got a watch on.
Mickey: I know, but what time is it?
Radcliffe Denton: I once saw daddy beat a man until both he and the man were crying.
Iris Krell: He has made me do things that would make a whore blush.
Pauline: Ooh, it's half past nine. Time for men, men with jobs, to go to work. Other men stay in bed until dinnertime watching Tots TV, thinking about how worthless and pathetic they are... Good morning, jobseekers.
Papa Lazarou: Oh. You're my wife now.
Harvey Denton: Perhaps you are a naturally slothful person, sluggish and indolent, a dawdling flaneur, content to waste his life spread eagled on pillows forever indulging himself in the pleasures of the palm.
Herr Lip: If you don't understand any of my sayings, come to me in private and I will take you in my German mouth.
Harvey Denton: When I was younger I suffered terrible facial warts. I remember the whispered comments, "Here comes Harvey toadface." "Quick hide, toadface Denton is coming!"
Val Denton: And that was his mother and father.
Tubbs: We didn't burn him.
Papa Lazarou: Nice to see you again Dave, all grown up.
Edward: You people are all alike, You march in here, young! try and touch the local things. I suppose next you'll be spraying me with one of those cans of paint, smearing poor Tubbs here with excrement.
Herr Lip: You're not like the other queer boys.
Herr Lip: Queer boys, the boys that sing in the queer.
Val Denton: We thought you'd be happiest down here on the sofa bed, you'll have your own shower and WC.
Harvey Denton: Into which we do not pass solids.
Tubbs: Will heaven be like Swansea?
Edward: Yes, Tubbs. Only... bigger.
Edward: Hello, hello. What's going on? What's all this shouting? We'll have no trouble here.
Pauline Campbell-Jones: Just who do you think you're talking to?
Cathy Carter-Smith: Well according to my report a psychotic 50-year-old lesbian.
Pauline Campbell-Jones: How dare you. I'm 48.
Edward: How much to leave the shop and never come back? Seventy? Eighty? All right a pound.