Daniel: And I'm afraid there's something really wrong, you know. I mean, clearly it's about his mum, but Christ, he might be injecting heroin into his eyeballs for all I know.
Karen: At the age of eleven?
Daniel: Maybe not his eyeballs, then. Maybe just his veins.

Harris Street old lady: Aren't you the Prime Minister?
Prime Minister: Yes, in fact, I am. Merry Christmas. Part of the service, now. Trying to get round to everyone by New Year's Eve.

Prime Minister: I'm not so sure politics and dating really go together.
The President: Really? I never found that.
Prime Minister: Yes, well, the difference is that you're sickeningly handsome whereas I look increasingly like my Aunt Mildred.

John: So, what do you reckon to our new Prime Minister, then?
Judy: I like him. Can't understand why he's not married, though.
John: Oh, you know the type. Married to his job. Either that or gay as a picnic basket.

Jo and I had a lot of time to prepare for this moment. Some of her requests - for instance, that I should bring Claudia Schiffer as my date to the funeral - I am confident she expected me to ignore.

Daniel

I had an uncle called Terence once. Hated him. Think he was a pervert. But I very much like the look of you.

Prime Minister

Annie: Right, I'll just go get my things, and then let's fix the country, shall we?
Prime Minister: Yeah, I can't see why not.

When she first mentioned what's about to happen, I said, "Over my dead body." And she said, "No, Daniel, over mine..."

Daniel

The trouble with being the Prime Minister's sister is it does put your life into rather harsh perspective. What did my brother do today? He stood up and fought for his country. And what did I do? I made a papier maché lobster head.

Karen

Jamie: You learned English?
Aurelia: Just in cases.

[learning Portuguese] Oh my God, I've got a terrible stomach ache. It must have been the prawns. My goodness, this is a very big fish! It tastes delicious!

Jamie

Sidney Deane: Hey hey man, what's the score? Yo! Chump! I'm talking to you! I'm talking to the fucking air.
Billy Hoyle: My name ain't chump, it's Billy Hoyle.
Sidney Deane: Billy Hoyle. BILLY HOYLE. Billy Hoyle. Okay Billy... can you count to ten, Billy?
Billy Hoyle: Yeah.
Sidney Deane: Good. What's the score... Billy?
Billy Hoyle: I don't know.
Sidney Deane: Then you're a chump.
Billy Hoyle: I may be a chump, I just said that wasn't my name.

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