Hal: Bury her naked? My own mum? It's a Freudian nightmare.
Dennis: I won't disagree.
Hal: Aren't we committing some kind of unforgivable sin?
Dennis: Only if you're a Catholic.
Hal: I am a Catholic. I can't undress her. She's a relative. I can go to Hell for it.
Dennis: I'll undress her then. I don't believe in Hell.
Hal: That's typical of your upbringing, baby. Every luxury was lavished on you - atheism, breast-feeding, circumcision. I had to make my own way.

Mrs. Prentice: Are you Geraldine Barclay?
Nick: Yes.
Mrs. Prentice: Where have you been?
Nick: I've been attending to the thousand and one duties that occupy the average secretary during her working hours.
Mrs Prentice: It doesn't take the whole morning to file your nails, surely?
Nick: I had to lie down. I was sick.
Mrs. Prentice: Are you pregnant?
Nick: I can't discuss my employer's business with you.