Cold Comfort Farm (1995 TV Movie)
Ada Doom: I saw something nasty in the woodshed!
Earl P. Neck: Sure you did, but did it see you, baby?
Ada Doom: There has always been Starkadders on Cold Comfort Farm.
Amos Starkadder: Ye miserable, crawlin' worms. Are ye here again then? Have ye come like Nimshi, son of Rehoboam, secretly out of your doomed houses, to hear what's comin' to ye? Have ye come, old and young, sick and well, matrons and virgins, if there be any virgins amongst you, which is not likely, the world being in the wicked state that it is. Have ye come to hear me tell you of the great, crimson, licking flames of hell fire? Aye! You've come, dozens of ye. Like rats to the granary, like field mice when it's harvest home. And what good will it do ye? You're all damned! Damned! Do you ever stop to think what that word means? No, you don't. It means endless, horrifying torment! It means your poor, sinful bodies stretched out on red-hot gridirons, in the nethermost, fiery pit of hell and those demons mocking ye while they waves cooling jellies in front of ye. You know what it's like when you burn your hand, taking a cake out of the oven, or lighting one of them godless cigarettes? And it stings with a fearful pain, aye? And you run to clap a bit of butter on it to take the pain away, aye? Well, I'll tell ye, there'll be no butter in hell!
Mrs. Smiling: I mean there probably isn't even a bathroom.
Flora Poste: It is Sussex, for goodness' sake.
Amos Starkadder: Seth, you drain the well. There's a neighbor missing.
Charles: Do you ever think of getting married?
Flora Poste: I believe in arranged marriages, don't you?
Charles: Rather out of date.
Flora Poste: Not at all. I've always like the phrase, "A marriage has been arranged." When I feel like it, I'll arrange one.
Flora Poste: Besides, I want to learn about *real* life.
Charles: What for?
Flora Poste: To put it in books.
Amos Starkadder: The Lord will provide! Or not, according to His will.
Ada Doom: You won't find me plucking my eyebrows, nor dieting, nor doting on a boy 25.
Flora Poste: Highly sexed young men living on farms are always called Seth or Reuben.
Flora Poste: It was winter. The grimmest hour of the darkest day of the year. The Golden Orb had almost disappeared behind the interlacing fingers of the hawthorn.
Flora Poste: Jane Austen and I have so much in common - neither of us can endure mess.
Flora Poste: When I am 53, I hope to write a novel as good as "Persuasion," but in a modern setting.
Mybug: Let me warn you: I'm a queer, moody brute, but there's rich soil in here if you care to dig for it.
Earl P. Neck: I don't want sissies. It's red meat time in the movies.
Amos Starkadder: I'm going to go all about in a Ford van. Like the apostles of old, I'll go about the land.
Flora Poste: Nature's all very well in her place, but she musn't be allowed to make things untidy.
Mrs. Smiling: In fact, when poetry is combined with ill-groomed hair and eccentric dress, it's generally fatal. You're very lucky, Elfine. He must have seen your finer points.
Mrs. Smiling: It's bad to be dewy-eyed around smart people, but you can always secretly despise them.
Flora Poste: I try to bring people around to the higher common sense.
Sneller: [reading Flora's first telegram to Mary] Worst fears confirmed. Seth and Reuben too. Everything needs changing. Send magazines!
Charles: If you get bored, where ever you are, phone. I'll come and rescue you in my plane.
Flora Poste: Have you a plane, Charles?
Charles: Ummmm. A Belisha Bat called Speed Cop II.
Flora Poste: Are you sure an embryo parson have a plane?
Charles: Everyone should have a plane.
Flora Poste: [laughing] Really, Charles!
Mybug: I do seem somewhat soaked in nature's fecund blessing.
Mybug: Miss Poste! Miss Poste! I'm engorgingly in love with you!
Mrs. Smiling: Of course you may stay here as long as you like. But I expect you should want to find some work to earn enough for a flat of your own.
Flora Poste: Work! What kind of work?
Mrs. Smiling: Oh, it's been ages since I've done any, but there must be something that would do... bookkeeping... beekeeping...
Ada Doom: Who will care for Feckless, Aimless, Graceless and Pointless?
Flora Poste: What a pleasant life might be had in this world by a handsome, sensible old lady of good fortune blessed with a sound constitution and a firm will.
Flora Poste: I'm willing to bet there are also cousins called Seth and Reuben.
Mrs. Smiling: Why?
Flora Poste: Highly sexed young men living on a farm are always called Seth or Reuben.
Amos Starkadder: They'll all burn in hell, and someone's gotta tell 'em so.
Flora Poste: Then, you have no idea what you're going to say before you get there?
Amos Starkadder: Aye. I always know it'll be something about burnin'.