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.

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...

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]

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: 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.

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.

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.