Gerry: Sister! How are you?
Sister Michael: Well, I'm at a wake, Mr. Quinn, so I've had better evenings.
Gerry: Did you know Bridie, then?
Sister Michael: No. But I believe your wife put some sort of a curse on her.
Gerry: Well, no, not exactly.
Sister Michael: You're not a tongue person, are you?
Gerry: I'm sorry?
Sister Michael: I'm on communion duty. Christ, but I cannot stand the tongue people! I mean, what's all that about? You can't lift a wafer into your own mouth? You need me to do it for you?
Gerry: Right, yeah, that... that must be tough.
Sister Michael: Father Thomas usually deals with the wakes but he's very sick at the minute. Bedridden, in fact.
Gerry: God! What caused it?
Sister Michael: Jack Daniels... mostly.

Clare: Are you sure this'll work?
James: This is how you get rid of drugs, Clare. I've seen Goodfellas, like, 20 times.
Orla: It's not the only way. I watched this film once about this girl who was trying to hide drugs and what she did was she shoved them right up her...
Michelle: I'm not sticking a scone up my hole, Orla. I'll tell you that for nothing.

Michelle: Right, well, you know Macca?
Erin: I can't say I do.
Michelle: Aye, Macca. Big Macca. Come on! Everybody knows Macca.
Clare: We don't.
Michelle: Wise up! Macca? Macca. Macca. Macca!
Clare: That's not helping, Michelle!
Michelle: Macca. Tall fella, dark hair, wonky nose from when he used to do the bare-knuckle boxing. Look, he's loads of tattoos, big scar under his left eye. He was kicked out of Creggan for joyriding!
Clare: Well, he sounds delightful!
Orla: He really does.

Erin: Right, well, that's the dishes done. Would you like another cup of tea there, Mammy?
Mary: No, I'm fine.
Erin: I'll just grab the Hoover and give the stairs a bit of a going over.
Orla: And I'll maybe do a bit of dusting.
Mary: What's got into you two? What are you up to? What do you want?
Erin: Nothing, we just thought that we should pull our weight a bit more, Mammy.
Orla: You do so much for us, Aunt Mary.
Erin: You deserve a bit of a break.
Mary: I can't hex people, girls. It was an accident.

Clare: The thing, is I just have so many questions about God, about life after death.
Sister Michael: Go away, please.
Clare: And I try to silence my doubts, I really do, but lately...
Sister Michael: I don't believe it.
Clare: What's wrong, Sister?
Sister Michael: Are these cinnamon?
Clare: Do you like cinnamon?
Sister Michael: I can't be doing with cinnamon.
Clare: Then that's what they are! Absolutely! 100%!

Orla: She really suits being dead, doesn't she?
Erin: What?

Clare: It's not happening. Drugs are for mugs, folks!
Michelle: Congratulations, Clare. That may be the dickiest sentence that anyone's ever said.
James: Come on, Michelle, what makes you think you can trust this Macca person?
Michelle: Well, he's not English for a start, so...
Erin: James has a point.
Michelle: No, he doesn't!
Erin: What if he gives us dodgy gear?
Michelle: Dodgy gear?! What is this, The Bill?!

Aunt Bridie: It wasn't my poor sister's fault. She tried her best with both of you, but you're your father's daughters, all right.
Mary: I'd rein it in, now, if I were you.
Aunt Bridie: I really think you were a disappointment to her, you know?
Joe: Now, hold on a goddamn minute!
Mary: Daddy, you will not dignify that with a response.
Aunt Bridie: And I'll tell you something else. If your mother saw thon hat, she'd be turning in her grave for it's nothing but a bloody eyesore.
Mary: Och, drop dead, you spiteful old hag!
[Aunt Bridie's eyes twitch before she falls back onto the floor with a thud]
Mary: Catch yourself on...

Mary: I just cannot believe it.
Sarah: Listen, Mary, no matter what you've done you're still my sister. I'll stand by you.
Mary: I haven't done anything, Sarah.
Joe: Exactly, love. Everybody knows you didn't mean to kill the old boot. God rest her soul.
Mary: I didn't kill her!
Joe: Och, you know what I mean, not kill... ..hex.
Mary: I didn't hex her either, Da! It was just a very tragic...
Joe: My mother, she had the gift too, you know. By God, that woman could make her enemies drop like flies.
Mary: Look, I don't have any gift. There's no dark forces at play here. I just said something unfortunate that happened to...
Sarah: Cause her death?
Mary: ...coincide with her death.

Eammon: No, Mary, no, I was just gonna say that my poor mother, God bless her and keep her...
Joe: Amen.
Eammon: ...well, she didn't mean what she said at the wedding.
Mary: Oh, please, you don't need to explain.
Eammon: You were worried I'd think you'd put a curse on her?
Mary: Well...
Eammon: That's hilarious.
Mary: Aye.
Eammon: I mean, obviously, a curse was my first thought. But I looked into it and Mammy's death, it doesn't meet the official requirements. So, you're completely in the clear on that front, Mary. Nothing to worry about at all.
Mary: Great.