Michelle: Fuck me.
Orla: I like his shiny hair.
James: So do I. I really like his shiny hair.

Father Peter: Hello, children.
All: Hello, Father.
Father Peter: Please, call me Peter.
Sister Michael: Christ.

Father Peter: So you claim you saw our blessed lady's features change, is that right?
Orla: The Virgin Mother smirked at us, Peter, that is correct.
Father Peter: I see. And after that, the statue, well, you claim it started weeping.
Clare: You're using the word "claim" a lot there, Peter.
Father Peter: Girls, I'm not here to make any judgments. I'm just trying to get the truth, that's all.
Clare: You think we're lying, don't you?
Father Peter: No, of course not.
Sister Michael: I do.

Erin: You staged his death, Ma. I thought I'd lost him.
Mary: Well, you have lost him. We're not taking him back.
Erin: What?
Mary: Ah, come on. He's a shit dog.
Erin: Toto was not a shit dog.
Mary: Well, he was no Gypsy.
Erin: Stop it. I'm sick of it. You can't compare every animal you have to the dog you had when you were five years old.
Mary: I can, and I will. You're not gonna tell your granda, are you?
Erin: Well, I'm gonna need some time to think about that.

Erin: I just can't get my head around it. The fact that he's gone. Forever.
Clare: It's so sad, it really is, it is so, so sad, but at the same time, you know, what's done is done, so let's crack on.
Erin: Oh, I'm sorry, Clare, has his sudden, tragic death interrupted your studies?
Clare: It has a bit, actually, yeah.
Erin: How can you be so heartless?

Michelle: And, anyway, you're not alone. We're all going to fail. We're all going to get our holes kicked and we're all in the same boat.
Erin: I don't want to be in that boat! I want to be in a different boat, sailing down a totally different river!
James: Guys, all we can do is try our best.
Michelle: Ach, don't be such a fruit, James!

Clare: Nothin's going in. Nothin' is going in, and every time I try to make notes it... [hand trembles] What's happening to me?
James: There's quite a lot of caffeine in those, Clare. How many of them have you had?
Clare: I don't know. Five? 23?
Michelle: We are all so fucked.

Clare: What's become of us? What has become of us?
Erin: Keep an eye on that kitchen window, you.
Clare: I want no part of this!
Erin: Well, you're in too deep now, Clare.
Clare: You're stealing a body!
James: Let's just get it over with, and never, ever speak of it again.
Michelle: Jesus Christ, my nails are fucking ruined!
Erin: Less talk, more digging.

Erin: Right, me and Michelle go stash it somewhere and the rest of you all fill it back in.
Father Peter: Open the box, Erin.
Erin: God!
Father Peter: Yes, he is with us. Do not be afraid, child.
[Erin looks away as she removes the lid to the cardboard box. Clare gasps.]
Erin: Erin: Listen, I can e... [looks down at the empty box] Oh, no, actually, I can't. I can't explain.
Father Peter: Thanks be to God!
James: Thanks be to God!

Erin: I shouldn't even have to sit the exam. On, you know, compassionate grounds.
Clare: He was a dog, Erin!
Erin: Toto was much more than a dog! Toto was my best friend!