Rebecca: “No beds!  They can’t ‘ave beds!”

Horace: “The fact is Morgan is an uncivilised brute.  Sometimes he drinks heavily; a night like this will set him going and once he’s drunk he’s rather dangerous.”

Roger: “Even Welsh ought not to sound like that.”

Rebecca: <Pointing at a lady’s dress> “That’s fine stuff…” <then at her skin> “That’s fine stuff, too, but it’ll rot, it’ll rot!”

Horace: “Have a potato.”