Gerry: I hope your father appreciates the fact that I was the one who got us out of that mess.
Mary: He won't. And nobody back there actually believed you were a Japanese tourist, Gerry. They all thought you were a nutcase. They took pity on you.

Gerry: I think what's happened here is, now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think your father has just driven through a police barricade.
Mary: Well, it's done now.
Gerry: Oh, that's true. It's probably not even that big a deal if you ignore the fact that Orangemen are circling us as though we're their fucking prey!
Mary: It'll be grand!
Clare: I'm starting to understand how Moby Dick must feel.
Gerry: Christ, I'm sweating here.
[After Gerry opens his car window, the marching band drowns out the argument going on between Gerry and Mary]

Ciaran: Look, why don't you just go home and have a wee look for your wee docket?
Gerry: No. This is ridiculous. Just open that up and take out one of the photos. You see? That's me wife there.
Ciaran: How do I know you're not just telling me that?
Gerry: Cos that's me standing beside her.
Ciaran: I suppose you do look a bit like this man.
Gerry: I am this man.
Ciaran: It could be you.
Gerry: It's definitely me. My name is Gerry Quinn. This is my father-in-law, Joe. He can vouch for me.
Joe: I've never seen this man before in my life.
Ciaran: No docket, no photographs.
Gerry: Great.

Gerry: Er, look, I'm sorry. Do you absolutely need it?
Ciaran: I'm afraid I do, sir, yes. Proof of ID.
Gerry: But you have my surname written on it there.
Ciaran: How do I know that's your surname?
Gerry: Because I just told you it was my surname.
Ciaran: You could be lying.
Gerry: Well, why would I lie?
Ciaran: To get your hands on someone else's photos.
Gerry: Why would I want somebody else's photos? Like, who would pay for somebody else's photos?
Joe: Stalker, maybe.
Ciaran: Yeah, exactly. Very good, sir. A stalker.
Gerry: I'm not a stalker.

Gerry: Excuse me. Excuse me, please.
Waitress: What?
Gerry: Erm, I just wanted to say that, er, I, erm... I ordered a tea, you brought me a Coke, and that's not acceptable.
Waitress: But you drank the Coke.
Gerry: That's not the point. And your service has been nothing short of appalling, your attitude is worse. It's simply not good enough!
Waitress: I'll, er... I'll bring you a tea.
Gerry: You do that!
Waitress: [sobs] I'm sorry! I got a bit of bad news today. I haven't really been able to focus. I've been a bit distracted maybe. I'm sorry. I'll just take this...
Gerry: No, no, ignore all that.
Waitress: I'll bring you your tea right away, sir.

Mary: How could you have lost the wee docket, Gerry?
Sarah: Aye, everybody knows you have to hang on to the wee docket.
Gerry: Look, I've said that I'm sorry.
Mary: They were my birthday photos, for God's sake.
Joe: There's definitely grounds for an annulment here, Mary.
Mary: I mean you only turn 33 once.
Gerry: You've been 33 a few times now, in fairness, Mary.
Mary: Well, aren't you a brave man, given the circumstances?

Gerry: Jesus Christ! OK, I think we all just need to take a moment. [knock on door]
Sarah: Don't answer! That might be him! That might be the polar bear!
Gerry: Yeah, because they're known for their impeccable manners. They might come into your house and rip your throat out, but they'll knock on the door first. Could you please stop pointing that thing at me, Joe?

Gerry: Where are my scallions?! How do you make a salad sandwich if you don't have scallions?! I asked for them ten minutes ago! Come on, now, people! Let's get it together, please! And there's a multipack of Taytos still waiting to be bowled up! No cross contamination this time. I want cheese and onion in one bowl, salt and vinegar in another! It is not that difficult, folks!

Gerry: It just doesn't make any sense, Jim.
Jim: I heard him say it. As clear as day, it was.
Gerry: Burt? Why would they bring him to Burt?
Jim: Well, that's what's so clever about it. Nobody's gonna go looking for the President of the USA in Burt, now, are they? Sure if you went about saying Bill Clinton was in Burt, people would think you were clean mad.
Gerry: Precisely. Look, lads, if you want my opinion...
Joe: We don't.
Gerry: Grand.

Gerry: Where is he?
Mary: D'you get the butter?
Gerry: He's done it again. Seamus!
Mary: Keep your voice down, Gerry!
Gerry: I want him out, Mary!
Mary: He'll hear ye!
Gerry: I don't care! He's a psychopath, and he's outstayed his welcome. Seamus! Seamus!
Joe: [enters holding a cat] Just what the hell is your problem, boy?!
Gerry: That. That is my problem, Joe. There is now a dead shrew on our doorstep.
Joe: And?
Gerry: And if we add that to the three dead pigeons, the dead mouse, and the dead feckin' frog, that's quite the body count, Joe.