- Shaun: [after walking in on his mother having sex with Mr. Sandhu] Are you...? Did...? You... you had to fuck him for my job?
- Cynthia Fields: No, son, I haven't fucked him for your job. I like him, son.
- Shaun: You what? You like... you like it with him?
- Cynthia Fields: Yeah, Shaun. I do.
- Shaun: [imitating Mr. Sandhu] Close the shop, Shaun. Do your business, Shaun. I wanna fuck your mam, Shaun.
- Mr. Sandhu: It isn't like that, huh?
- Shaun: You're a fucking liar!
- Mr. Sandhu: Look, Shaun... I'm a good man, huh? I... I... I care about your mother. I have great, great respect...
- Shaun: He doesn't even speak properly, mum!
- Cynthia Fields: Shaun, stop it please! I'm sorry, son. I know it's a shock. I've got feelings too, you know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but... but he's moving in, Shaun.
- Shaun: No, he's not! He's not, because if he moves in, then I'm off! I'm not even bothered, mum, I'll go and live on the docks! I'm not staying here with him!
- Cynthia Fields: Shaun, don't be silly, please!
- Shaun: I'm not being silly, I swear! I'm not staying here with him!
- [to Mr. Sandhu]
- Shaun: You're a fucking greasy wanker, Sandhu!
- Cynthia Fields: Shaun...
- Shaun: And you, mum, you should be ashamed of yourself! You should be! Dad'd be ashamed of you, I'm ashamed of you, you should be ashamed of yourself!
- Cynthia Fields: Your dad wasn't a racist, Shaun.
- Shaun: [shouting] I don't mean 'cause he's coloured! I mean, because you're doing it behind my back! Like some worthless little slag off the estate! Listen, Cynthia, don't ever speak to me again! Both of you, rot in hell!
- Cynthia Fields: [Shaun leaves and Cynthia breaks down in tears and whispers] Shaun... I'm sorry.
- [to Mr. Sandhu]
- Cynthia Fields: I'm sorry...