TV Quotes

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 Presenter: [on TV] SDLP leader John Hume has again called for cross party peace talks...
Sarah: John's really dying for peace, like, isn't he? It's all he ever goes on about. I hope it works out for him.
Mary: Aye, I sort of hope it works out for all of us, Sarah.

Clare: What's she doing now?
James: Reading her book.
[Sister Michael chuckles as she reads The Exorcist]
James: Now she's looking at the woman beside her. Now she's getting up. Now she's coming this way. Now she's standing right in front of us.
Sister Michael: What is he doing?
James: Now she's asking me-
Erin: Stop talking, James.

Sister Michael: I want to sit here.
Michelle: What? Why?
Sister Michael: Well, you're just such wonderful company, girls, what with your stimulating conversation and your razor sharp wit.
Erin: Really?
Sister Michael: No, not really. The woman next to me is eating an egg and onion sandwich and the smell of it is enough to turn an Orange march.

Orla: Their wee beekeeper costumes are so cracker.

Gerry: Why does Jim across the road have a tranquilizer gun?
Sarah: His brother had an awful lot of bother with devil worshippers.
Gerry: Excuse me?
Sarah: Aye, they sent up camp on his farm and he couldn't shift them for love nor money, so Jim bought a couple of guns and just...
Gerry: What? Shot them?
Sarah: Aye. I think it worked, you know?
Gerry: I imagine it would, yeah.
Mary: I'm not convinced they were devil worshippers, you know?
Sarah: Sure their hair had never seen a brush and they were head to toe in tie dye, Mary.

Clare: A history project! This web of lies we're spinning is getting out of control now, girls.
Michelle: It's grand, Clare. I think she bought it.
Clare: Of course she didn't buy it. She's onto us. I'm telling you. My God, I'm sweltered here.
Erin: Then take it off.
Clare: I can't take it off. I've nothing underneath it.
Erin: What, not even a bra?
Michelle: Jesus, Clare! You've no bra on?
Clare: Of course I've got a bra on.
Orla: I haven't got a bra on.
James: Can everyone please stop saying "bra."
Clare: But I can hardly parade about in just my bra. I'm not Madonna.
Michelle: Isn't that the truth.

Michelle: Nobody's going to recognise you, Clare.
Sister Michael: Clare Devlin? Is that you?
Clare: Jesus Christ.
Erin: Relax, Clare. It's the weekend. She has no authority over us at the weekend. She has no right to question us, and, if she tries to, I'll tell her as much.
Sister Michael: Morning, girls.
All: Morning, Sister Michael.
Sister Michael: What takes you to Belfast?
Erin: [quietly] I'm not really sure that's...
Sister Michael: Speak up.
Erin: I'm not really sure that's any of your business.
Sister Michael: I'm going to assume that was an ill-judged attempt at humour, Miss Quinn.
Erin: Yes.

Jonjo: How'ya, girls.
Michelle: Well, hello, there.
Erin: Hi.
Clare: Good afternoon, Sir.
Michelle: "Sir?" What the fuck, Clare?

James: Who are they?
Erin: They're just people, James. They're just people that are exactly like us.
Orla: Except different.
Erin: Yes. No!
Clare: That's actually racist, Orla.
Michelle: No, it's not. They are different.
Erin: They're not.
Michelle: Well, they live in caravans, for a start.
Orla: I wish I lived in a caravan.
Michelle: Ah, me too. Caravan's are class.

Michelle: Well, I'm not letting the fat, furry fuck ruin the biggest day of my life.
Erin: What can we do?
Michelle: Right, listen, girls, I've never told anyone this before but sometimes when Robbie's being interviewed, it's like he's sending me messages through the TV, you know, telepathically or whatever. It's like he's telling me we're going to be together.
Erin: Aye, maybe don't that to anyone again, Michelle. Ever.

Sister Michael: Now answer the question.
Erin: We're going to the museum.
Sister Michael: Which museum?
Clare: The Ulster Museum.
Sister Michael: What for?
James: A project. A history project.
Sister Michael: What about?
Michelle: Ulster?
Sister Michael: Hmm. [sits down]

Michelle: Look, this is too important. I'm going to that concert. I'm not afraid of a fucking polar bear!
Erin: Me either!
James: Nor me.
Michelle: Bastard!
Orla: I'll kill it with my own two hands if I have to.
Erin: Bring it on!
Clare: OK, we seem to have gone down a weird road here, people. I think we've just got a bit confused. We don't actually have to fight a polar bear. And, if we did, I wouldn't really fancy our chances because, well, they're massive.
Orla: But there's five of us so...

Clare: God, I am boiling.
Erin: Is it any wonder, Clare? What are you wearing?
Michelle: Yeah, you look like a fucking provo.
Clare: Look, I don't want anyone recognising me, OK?

Erin: We need a better plan, Michelle!
Michelle: This is a great plan.
Erin: We cannot walk to Belfast!
Michelle: How far can it be? Have you ever seen Northern Ireland on a map? It's fucking tiny.

Rita: Let's get a move on!
Michelle: Right, get in the van. Come on. And do not test me, cos we've already missed PJ and Duncan.
Clare: Is that who was supporting them?
Michelle: Aye.
Clare: Aw, I really like them!
James: I'm not leaving, Michelle.
Michelle: Not even for Gary Barlow?
Jonjo: I don't really rate him as a songwriter, you know?
James: I'm sorry, Jonjo, but you've just crossed the line there.

Sister Michael: What have you got in here, girls?
Clare: It's not ours!
Sister Michael: Not yours?
Clare: We've never see it before in our lives. Have we, girls?
Michelle: Never.
James: Nope.
Sister Michael: Excuse me, everyone! Can I have your attention, please? Does anyone own this red suitcase? [Orla raises her hand behind Sister Michael's back]
All: No.
Sister Michael: Now, let me be clear, no-one can claim this bag, is that correct?
All: That's correct.
Sister Michael: I think we've got a code red on our hands. Driver, pull over!

Clare: Sweet Jesus.
Erin: Aye, this isn't great.
Michelle: Ach, it's not that big a deal.
Erin: They're going to blow up an entire suitcase of vodka, Michelle!
Michelle: I know. Animals.

Clare: We're going to get caught. I just know it.
Michelle: We're not going to get caught, Clare. Because, as far as our Mas are concerned, me, you and James are at Erin's house, and Erin and Orla are round mine.
Orla: But we're not round yours, Michelle. We're on a bus to Belfast.
Michelle: I can't, I cannot explain it to her again, I'm going to scream.

Jonjo: Why did you think we were chasing you? Ah, right, I see, we're travellers which means we're psychopaths?
Orla: You were right, Erin.
Michelle: Shut up, Orla.
Jonjo: We run after people and beat them up for no fecking reason?
Erin: No, look, that isn't.
Jonjo: We're travellers, so we're obviously violent.
Erin: No, not at all. Listen, we have huge respect for you and your people. You've such a strong sense of community and such wonderful, traditional values.
Rita: [musical horn honks] These lads bothering you, girls?
Erin: Yes, yes, they are.
Michelle: They're fucking madmen.
Erin: They're going to kill us. Help us, please!
Rita: [spits out] Jump in.
Jonjo: Arseholes.