Hyacinth: It's absolutely scandalous! My free-style floral decoration for a table centrepiece deserved a first prize. Everybody said so.
Richard: Well, you got a second.
Hyacinth: And to give first prize to Lydia Hawkesworth. Of all people!
Richard: Better luck next time. It was just one of those things, Hyacinth.
Hyacinth: It was one of those things that didn't deserve a first prize. Oh. It's not that I mind losing. It's just that I hate the thought of first prize being given to somebody who'll make such a meal of it; we'll never hear the last of it. If they'd given it to me my natural modesty would ensure a minimum of fuss. To give it to Lydia Hawkesworth! You saw it; you were there. What did you think? Come along, Richard, be honest.
Richard: I hated it.
Hyacinth: I'm glad we're of the same opinion.
Richard: I know when to hate something, or not.
Hyacinth: The woman has no taste. And as for the judges, where do they find these judges? Must be the same idiots that keep letting people off serious crime.
The Sergeant: [writing in his notebook] Richard Bucket.
Hyacinth: It's B-O-U Q-U-E-T.
The Sergeant: Right, I'd like the answers to a few questions, Mr Bucket.
Hyacinth: It's Bouquet.
Lydia Hawkesworth: [drives up] Mrs Bucket.
Hyacinth: It's Bouquet! Oh, hello again, Mrs Hawkesworth.
The Constable: Come back here, Madam.
Hyacinth: Lovely day, isn't it?
Rose: Why is Onslow reading the Financial Times?
Onslow: I like to keep an eye on the economy. A bloke in my position has to wonder how long the country can afford him. If we don't get the economy right, people like me are gonna be in trouble! It's the duty of all of us to be concerned about the shrinking pound.
Daisy: And when I married him, I thought he was just a sex symbol.