Hyacinth: Don't grunt when you polish, Richard. I can hear you breathing, dear. I don't think it's quite nice to hear people breathing. You'd think by now evolution would have replaced our unfortunate bodily functions with something a little more tasteful. I suppose it was perfectly adequate for primitive peoples, but really.
Richard: Well, we are merely mammals, after all.
Hyacinth: Richard! What a thing to say to somebody with a solid silver self-cleaning sauce separator.
Hyacinth: [answering the telephone] The Bouquet residence, the lady of the house speaking.
Hyacinth: You are whom? Actually, I think that should be 'who'. You are who?
Hyacinth: The Department of Refuse Service Offices? Oh, you mean the rubbish people.
Hyacinth: Yes, I am the lady who's been ringing all week with a complaint. Yes, thank you for finally retuning my call.
Hyacinth: My complaint is about your dustbin lorries.
Hyacinth: All right, your collection vehicles. They will keep passing down my avenue. Now I don't mind them coming on Tuesday because that's when I put my dustbin out. But I wish you would forbid them to pass down my avenue on other days. It gives the impression that I specialize in superfluous amounts of garbage.
Hyacinth: Oh, I know what they're doing; they're taking the short cut, and I'd like you to do something about it.
Hyacinth: Well, if that's your excuse I wouldn't even put it in a black plastic bag and stuff it in a dustbin. Hello. Hello.
[clicks the hook several times]
Hyacinth: Bolshie binman.
Daisy: You never noticed when I got that new nightie.
Onslow: Let me give you a tiny word of advice, Daise. Now, you'll not find this in your romantic novels, but if you're going to wear a see-through nightie, don't wear a vest!
Elizabeth: There comes to us all in this area, not only the certainty of death & taxes, but periodically one of Hyacinth's candlelight suppers!
Hyacinth: [the doorbell rings] Richard, our guests have arrived!
Rose: You expecting company?
Hyacinth: Oh, it's just Elizabeth from next door and her brother Emmet.
Rose: Oh, I didn't know she had a brother.
Hyacinth: Yes, he's recovering from rather a bad divorce.
Rose: Oh, divorced, is he?
[Elizabeth enters with Emmet]
Elizabeth: How are you, Hyacinth?
Hyacinth: Oh, I, em. Ah...
Rose: Oh, I can see he's suffered.
[cuddles up to Emmet]
Rose: Some women can be *bitches*.