TV Quotes

Clare: Girls, I really don't feel great. I feel sort of shaky. I think my blood sugar is dangerously low.
Erin: Seriously, will you just have a Mars bar?
Clare: What about Kamal?
Michelle: Fuck Kamal.
Clare: Look, whatever happens in there, we have to stick together, OK? We have to back each other up.
Sister Michael: Ladies.
[inside Sister Michael's office:]
Clare: So it had nothing to do with me! Yes, OK, I was there, I admit that, but I didn't do anything. It was Michelle. It was all Michelle. I'm not going down for something I didn't do. If anyone deserves to get punished, it should be Michelle.
Sister Michael: Well, I think it's safe to say we all just lost a bit of respect for you there, Clare.

Sarah: Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not enjoying this bomb.
Joe: Shocking.
Mary: Desperate.
Sarah: Disgusting and disgraceful. I have an appointment in Tropicana at 12:00. 15 minutes in the stand up. But sure, I'll not get over the bridge at this rate. It's going to play havoc with my build-up. This is what they want. They want ordinary people to suffer. This is what it's all about.
Erin: I'm pretty sure interfering with your sunbed sessions isn't very high up on anyone's political agenda, Aunt Sarah.
Sarah: I wouldn't be so sure.

Michelle: Christ, I feel a bit bokey. [Michelle opens the curtains]
Clare: Sweet sufferin' Jesus, it's the morning already! What are we going to do?
Michelle: Well, maybe we could start with calming the fuck down.
Clare: Calm down? We're still on William of Orange, Michelle! We haven't so much looked at the famine!
Michelle: We've got the gist. They ran out of spuds. Everyone was ragin'.
James: Well, I can't tell my rebellions from my risings.
Michelle: And whose fault's that? If your lot had stopped invading us for five fucking minutes there'd be a lot less to wade through, you English prick!

Michelle: Ssh! You'll scare Clive!
James: Who's Clive?
Michelle: Clive. Clive is a wee Prod from East Belfast. Clive came back from Ibiza, got on the wrong bus at Aldergrove Airport, then fell asleep. Clive woke up in Derry, surrounded by Russians and Fenians. Clive is absolutely shitting himself.
Erin: So where's the real Artem?
Michelle: Giant's Causeway, probably. Foreigners fucking love the Giant's Causeway.
Clive: I just want to go home! But she won't let me leave! She won't let me leave.
Michelle: I also think Clive may have had too many disco biscuits on his holidays.
Clare: [enters] Here you are!
Clive: Thank God! [hugs Clare in her Union Jack top] Whatever you do, don't slag off the Pope. We're outnumbered.