Mary: Already? It's started already?
Gerry: I think it's just a rehearsal, love.
Mary: They've been playing the same three songs since 1795. What do they need to rehearse for?

News Presenter: [on TV] Despite John Hume's optimism earlier today, the DUP leader, Ian Paisley, has said that under no circumstances will his party sit at the same table as Sinn Fein, making all party talks impossible.
Mary: I can't take it any more. All these false promises. Waiting week after week, hoping today might be the day, only to be disappointed.
Gerry: Don't upset yourself, love. It's just a wheelie bin.
Mary: It'll change my life, Gerry. And Strabane's had them for months. I mean, what's going on there? Who's pulling the strings for Strabane?

News Anchor: [on TV] Ian Paisley and the DUP say they will not enter any kind of talks with Sinn Fein unless the IRA decommission all arms.
Aunt Sarah: I'm convinced they don't know where they are.
Gerry: What's that?
Aunt Sarah: The IRA. Well, after the ceasefire they've all this stuff just lying about, you know, their guns, their Semtex, their other bits and bobs, and there's nothing worse than clutter.
Mary: Exactly like Mammy's Toby jug collection.
Aunt Sarah: I was just thinking that, Mary.
Mary: I bagsed them all up, stored them somewhere safe, thought no more about them. Six months later Daddy wants to plant some seeds in John Wayne. Well, can I remember where I put them?
Gerry: Are you saying you think the IRA won't decommission because they've misplaced their balaclavas?
Mary: I mean, they'll turn up, I'm sure.
Gerry: The balaclavas?
Mary: The Toby jugs.

Deidre: Listen, Mary, I hate to do this to you, but me and Martin are both working nights and I'm nervous about leaving these two on their own what with the day that's in it. Don't suppose there's any chance you could take them with you?
Mary: Ach, a week, Deirdre, it's just...
Deidre: The English thing? Listen, Mary, I understand. I mean, he's my nephew, and even I find it hard to get past. If I'm totally honest, there's times when I look at him and I feel... well, it's pure hatred. I'll not dress it up.
Mary: No, no, it's not the English thing.
Deidre: I hope to God it's not the gay thing you're offended by.
James: There is no gay thing.
Deidre: Because I'd be disappointed in you, Mary. I'll not lie.
Mary: Of course not. I mean, if anything, the gay thing sort of cancels out the English thing.
James: Again, no gay thing.
Michelle: You wouldn't move over there, James? I can't see past your massive closet.

Mary: I can't find my purse.
Gerry: I can see your purse right there.
Mary: No, that's my sterling purse. I'm talking about my punt purse. I can't find my punt purse, Gerry. [prays] Blessed St. Anthony, the Grace of God has made you the patron saint of all things lost and stolen. I turn to you this day with childlike love and...
Gerry: Look, Mary, calm down.
Mary: Calm down, Gerry? We have no punts! We can't go to the Free State without punts. We're puntless. We haven't a punt between us. Oh, God. I think... I think I'm having a panic attack. Oh, stupid punts.

Mary: All I'm saying is I find it difficult to believe.
Sarah: But it's the truth, Mary.
Mary: Really?
Sarah: Honest to God.
Mary: So if I was to go next door and open that washing basket of yours...
Sarah: You wouldn't find any darks. What, do you think I'm holding out on you?
Mary: I don't know what to believe.
Sarah: Listen, I've plenty of coloureds. You're welcome to my coloureds.
Mary: I'm not interested in your coloureds, Sarah. It's darks I need. Oh, listen, Da.
Joe: Do not be starting at me about darks, Mary. I've given you whatever darks I have. Stick on a half load and be done with it, woman.
Mary: A half load goes against everything I stand for. You know that, Da.

Mary: And for the love of God don't forget your waterproof trousers. They nearly bloody bankrupted us. Do the Protestants have to bring waterproof trousers? Or will the Catholics be expected to do all the dirty work?
Erin: What dirty work? It's an outdoor pursuits weekend.
Mary: I thought you said you were be building bridges?
Erin: Not real bridges, Mammy, metaphorical bridges.
Mary: Then why can't you wear metaphorical trousers?

Mary: Christ, I'm at my wits' end!
Gerry: Firstly, he's not coming to Derry until tomorrow.
Mary: Have you see the heck of those skirting boards, Gerry? I'd need a week to tackle them.
Gerry: And secondly, I think it's unlikely he'll call to our house.
Mary: He might call, Gerry.
Sarah: Aye, he might take a notion.
Gerry: I think presidential visits are quite carefully planned. I'm not sure there's an awful lot of room for notion-taking.
Mary: Hope you're right, Gerry. For it's like Beirut in here. I mean, when was the last time these were bleached? I couldn't hand Hillary that.
Sarah: I'd say she keeps her place shining, Mary.
Mary: Sure she'd put you to shame.

Erin: I won't put up with it any more. Teenagers have rights now, you know.
Mary: Don't be ridiculous.
Erin: They do, Ma. It's true. Sure, Macaulay Culkin might be divorcing his parents.
Mary: Do you hear this? This'll be someone she met at that stupid summer scheme you insisted we send her on. A bloody Friends Across the Barricades thing. I have nothing against Protestants. I'm all for integration, I am, but if they're letting their weans divorce them...
Erin: Macaulay Culkin isn't a Protestant, Ma.
Mary: It's only going to give our weans ideas.
Erin: Well, he might be. I didn't meet him at Friends Across the Barricades.
Mary: I don't care where you met him. You're not to see him again. Understood?
Erin: Fine.

Mary: Oh, shut up, shut up, shut up! Will you all just please shut up? I am sick of it! I am sick of the boiler and the vouchers and the fountain pens and the bastardin' Pop Tarts. I am sick of the fact that I am responsible for everything in this house, you useless, useless shites! Enough is enough. You can all sort yourselves out for once! Now... I'm going to go upstairs and have a long, hot soak in the bath. And I do not want disturbed is that understood?
Gerry: There's no hot water.
Mary: Christ almighty!