Michelle: Now we just have to work out how to get through the actual door. We could just smash the shit out of it.
Clare: I'd rather not smash the shit out of it, if you don't mind, Michelle!
James: [pulls out a card] This is what they'd do in the movies.
Michelle: What, wave a Video Village card around like a fucking simpleton?
James: Jimmy the lock, step aside. So, if I just... and then it should... Yeah, it's not gonna work.

James: We lived on the edge back then. We were young, wild, fearless. We didn't play by the rules.
Michelle: I'm gonna shove that camera up his hole!

Erin: I have to get to the bottom of this.
Clare: That's halfway up Pump Street.
Michelle: James can drive now.
Erin: He doesn't have a car.
Michelle: Your da does.
Erin: He'd never let us borrow it.
Michelle: He wouldn't have to know.
James: Absolutely not!
[later, as a car slowly moves up the street:]
Michelle: Couldn't he speed up a wee bit?
James: No, I couldn't!
Clare: Are we even moving?
James: I simply will not negotiate when it comes to road safety.

Michelle: Christ, that's some gaff.
James: I think plumbers do all right, you know.

James: Portrush, with a Protestant, Unionist majority, yet many Catholics from Derry risk travelling there every summer. Why? Well, because it's got a cracking big dipper.

Erin: I mean our dreams for the future. What lives do we want to live? What legacy do we hope to leave? Yes, James, go on.
James: Oh, sorry. I thought I was going to sneeze, but I lost it.
Erin: Fine. We'll just sit here in silence then. Is that what you want?
James: It's not a bad idea, actually.
Michelle: Suits me.
Orla: I'll just think in my own head.
Erin: Clare would have talked.
Orla: Sh.

James: Can we focus here, please?
Michelle: There's at least a grand in here.
James: And a gun. An actual gun. That guy. When he was moving he must have taken my bag by mistake.
Erin: Just put it back.
James: What?
Erin: The bag. Just put it back.
James: And what about my bag? It has my camera in it, my swimming trunks.
Michelle: Just swim in your cacks.
James: I don't want to swim in my cacks.
Erin: This is more important than your cacks. He's dangerous. Just put it back exactly as it was. He can't know that we have touched anything. [Orla empties the crisp packet into her mouth] Fantastic.

Aideen: [to Jordy] Where are my crisps?
Mary: She is not happy about him nicking the cheese and onion, is she?
Orla: They were salt and vinegar.
Mary: What?
Jordy: [points to James in the carriage] That fucker. Him. That fucker there.
Joe: Is he pointing at you, son?
James: Oh, God.
Jordy: It was him. It was him.
Aideen: [to James] Where's my crisps? You owe me a packet of crisps. [train starts to move] Where's my Tayto? Where's my salt and vinegar crisps? You stole my crisps.

James: What about me? Could we pick me up a girl?
Michelle: Can we pick you up a girl?
Erin: Like she's a thing?
Orla: Yeah, that is so out of order, James.
James: I didn't mean... I-I just thought...
Michelle: Well, you thought wrong, James.
James: Sorry.
Michelle: Get in the van. Dirtbag.

Soldier: Licence. Where have you come from today?
James: Er, Derry. Er, Londonderry. Derry. L-Londonderry.
Michelle: Calm the fuck down, James.
Soldier: You English?
James: Yeah.
Michelle: He's fine. We didn't bring him up here to kill him or anything.
James: She's my cousin.
Soldier: Oh, right. Not properly English, then.
James: I can't win!