Tony: Are you all right Bren? Did you get any?
Tony: At the weekend! Did you get any?
Bren: Any sex? No I had to go to the laundrette. Did you, Tony?
Tony: Hollow flipping laughter.
Tony: All a bloke really wants for Christmas is a voucher that says, "Take this to 32 Sycamore Avenue. Mrs. Janet Farnesbarnes will be stark naked waiting for you. You can have as long as you like, you get a cup of tea afterwards and you don't have to have a bloody conversation!"
Tony: I'm a lonely celibate, me. I do nothing. I go home and fry eggs. If I ever do get a girl to come back to my place I won't know what to do with her. I'll be flicking hot fat at her with a spatula.
[Dolly has revealed that she and her husband are going on a luxury cruise]
Jean: Luxury, my do dah! It's a converted World War Two aircraft carrier!
Dolly Belfield: We have our own suite, our own balcony...
Jean: Your own Bofors Gun!
Anita: [on the topic of Christmas decorations] Is genitalia the silver stuff you drape over the branches?
Jane: [on the subject of the holiday to Marbella] So is there anyone you want to bring?
Tony: What "bring" bring?
Jane: No not "bring" bring, just bring.
Twinkle: You can get phones that do that.
Petula Gordino: [going to hospital] What ward will I be on?
Petula Gordino: Mixed isn't it? - might have a bit of sex.
Dolly Belfield: I didn't just come up the Manchester Ship Canal on a Ryvita, you know.
Tony: I didn't go mad this morning and order one old lady instead of a load of broccoli?
Stan: [on being asked what his Millennium regrets are] I failed to exploit the potential of the cross-head screwdriver. It was publicly pretty shameful.