Bernadette Quotes in
Bernadette: The spring is not for me.
Sister Marie Therese Verzous: Are you pert, indifferent or only stupid?
Bernadette: I'm stupid, Sister. I have a poor head for study.
Bernadette: Your Reverence, I DID see her.
Peyramale: Yes, my child, you did. And you will see her again.
Bernadette: Perhaps I haven't suffered enough.
Peyramale: You've suffered enough, my child, for the Heaven of Heavens.
Bernadette: [to Felicia] That's just what this country needs: a cock in a frock on a rock.
Bernadette: [to Shirley] Now listen here, you mullet. Why don't you just light your tampon, and blow your box apart? Because it's the only bang you're ever gonna get, sweetheart!
Bernadette: Stop flexing your muscles, you big pile of budgie turd. I'm sure your mates will be much more impressed if you just go back to the pub and fuck a couple of pigs on the bar.
Bob: Bernadette, please.
Frank: *Bernadette?* Well I'll be darned. The whole circus is in town. Well I suppose you wanna fuck too do you? Come on Bernadette, come and fuck me. That's it. Come on. Come and fuck me. Come on. Fuck me.
[Bernadette knees Frank in the groin]
Bernadette: There, now you're fucked!
Bernadette: No, I'll join this conversation on the proviso that we stop bitching about people, talking about wigs, dresses, bust sizes, penises, drugs, night clubs, and bloody Abba!
Tick: Doesn't give us much to talk about then, does it?
Bernadette: [to Felicia] I've said it before, and I'll say it again: "No more fucking ABBA!"
Bernadette: [to Tick] Don't "Darling", me, Darling. Look at you. You've got a face like a cat's arse.
Bernadette: What a nice dog. What's it's name?
Bob: Herpes. If she's good, she'll heal.
Tick: [Tick and Bernadette are discussing what it would be like to have children] What happens if they turn out like Adam?
Bernadette: You stuff 'em back in and ask for a refund.
Felicia: [in sweet voice] Mummy, maybe a trip to the outback will help me get over this little... phase I'm going through. And you never know, I might meet some lovely country girl.
[in tough voice]
Felicia: I hereby christen this budget Barbie camper... Priscilla. Queen of the Desert!
[smashes champagne bottle against bus]
Bernadette: That's gotta be the understatement of the century.
Bernadette: [to Felicia] It's funny. We all sit around mindlessly slagging off that vile stink-hole of a city. But in its own strange way, it takes care of us. I don't know if that ugly wall of suburbia's been put there to stop them getting in, or us getting out. Come on. Don't let it drag you down. Let it toughen you up. I can only fight because I've learnt to. Being a man one day and a woman the next isn't an easy thing to do.
Bernadette: [to Bob] Believe me, Bob, these days gentlemen are an endangered species. Unlike bloody drag queens who just keep breeding like rabbits.
Bernadette: Oh. Uh, gather around girls, uh, let me show you a trick. You, um, drink the Gin...
[guzzles the entire contents]
Bernadette: Aaah! Uh, fill the bottle up with water and then put it back in the fridge.
Mitzi: Va-t'en vous. What about the scotch?
Bernadette: Aha! That's where the complimentary tea bags come in handy.
Bernadette: [after Felicia tells Bernadette about her ABBA story] What are you telling me? This is an ABBA turd?
Bernadette: [to Tick about Felicia] One more push, I'm gonna to smack his face so hard he'll have to stick his toothbrush up his arse to clean his teeth!
Bernadette: We've only recently discovered that young Anthony here, bats for both teams.
Mitzi: I do not!
Felicia: Oh, so we're straight?
Felicia: Oh, we're not. So we're a donut puncher, after all?
Felicia: Then what the hell are we?
Mitzi: I don't fuckin' know.
Mitzi: [about Trumpet] , You know, I never heard him play.
Bernadette: Play? He didn't *play*, dear. Trumpet didn't have a single musical bone in his body. No, Trumpet had an unusually large foreskin. So large, in fact, that he could wrap the entire thing around a Monte Carlo biscuit.
Felicia: Oh, you can't do that with a ping-pong ball!
Bernadette: Do you wanna bet?
Mitzi: [as Felicia starts painting over the graffiti on their bus, which is stranded in the middle of nowhere] Purple?
Felicia: It's not *purple*, it's *lavender*. Whaddaya think?
Mitzi: It's nice... in a hideous sort of a way.
Mitzi: [to Bernadette, who has started walking off] Where are *you* going?
Bernadette: If you think I'm going to sit around watching Picasso take on the public transit system, you've got another thing coming. I'll be back with the cavalry in a couple of hours.
[after their bus breaks down in the middle of the outback]
Tick: What's happening?
Felicia: Um, I don't know.
Bernadette: Oh, my God! Oh, Felicia. Where the Fuckawei?
Bernadette: Tony, Adam. This is Mr. and Mrs. Spencer.
[the car drives off leaving them stranded]
Felicia: No, wait. Stop! Shit!.
Felicia: How long have we been on the road?
Bernadette: Four and a half hours.
Bernadette: How long is the run?
Tick: Four weeks. Equity minimum, two shows a night, accommodation included.
Bernadette: [to Felicia] At least the bump on your head is bigger than your prick!
Felicia: Well, girls, what can I say? Here's to a secret very well kept.
Bernadette: Shame it's not gonna stay that way, isn't it?
Bernadette: [to the Bartender] Hello. Could I please have a Stoli and tonic, a Bloody Mary and a lime daiquiri, please?
Shirley: Well! Look what the cat dragged in! What have we got here, eh? A couple of showgirls, have we? Where did you ladies come in from? Uranus?
Bernadette: [to the Bartender] Could I please have a Stoli...
Shirley: No! Ya can't have! Ya can't have nothing! We've got nothing here for people like you! Nothin'!
Bernadette: [to Tick] Oh, that's a novel idea. Let's stuff ourselves to death. Imagine the headlines: "Whales Beach Themselves In The Outback". "Mystery Bum Sticks Dead In Drag".
Bernadette: [to Tick] You got us into this, Anthony Belrose. And I suggest you start thinking about how to get us back, or I don't fancy your chances of ever trying being a husband again.
Bob: [knocks] Can I come in?
Bernadette: Now, there's a gentleman. Of course you can, Bob.
Bernadette: [dryly, eying the huge landscape murals in their hotel room] Subtle.
Mitzi: Oh, tack-a-rama! Who the hell does all the *painting* around here?
Bernadette: Someone with no arms or right foot, by the look of things.
Bernadette: [to Felicia and Tick] Ladies, start your engines!
Bernadette: [to Felicia] Do tell us your hilarious joke.
Bernadette: [to Tick] Take the shortcut.
Bernadette: [to Tick] You've got to be fucking joking!
Peyton Nichols: So how does the world look through cracked glasses?
Bernadette: The world is so full of pervs. That guy at table 10 is the worst. Every week, a new bimbo. I swear, he leers at my tits, one more time, he's gonna regret it.
Madeleine: Did they sign a contract?
Bernadette: It wasn't clear; all I know is they were obviously influenced by someone's, you know, high-falutin' talkin'.
Bernadette: [from jail cell above the street] You know why I'm in here, boy?
Tommy Warshaw: No.
Bernadette: I murdered my husband, in his sleep, with my bare hands. I'm a murderer! I *hate* men! And if they let me out this bitch, I'll kill again! I mean, if you get in my way, I might even kill you!
Tommy Warshaw: I don't care.
Bernadette: [from her apartment window] Tommy.
Tom Warshaw: [from the rainy courtyard] Lady. You have a beautiful face.
Bernadette: Tommy, we did what we had to do - didn't we?
Tom Warshaw: [just staring back]
Bernadette: It's alright. She understands. Your poor mama. She understands a boy have to go away before he come back. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
Tom Warshaw: [breaks down in tears]
Bernadette: Run, Tommy.
Tom Warshaw: I don't have to run anymore. Lady, I can walk now.
Bernadette: I know you can walk. And I know you can dance. But I'm sayin' this is a bad neighborhood for a lone white boy. Now, run.
[mocks running with her arms]
Bernadette: Run! Run! Run, Tommy!
Tom Warshaw: [turns and goes]
Bernadette: All Jane Austen, all the time. It's the perfect antidote.
Prudie Drummond: To what?
Bernadette: To life.
Bernadette: Our world is an English village.
Bernadette: Let us never underestimate the power of a well-written letter.
Prudie Drummond: I'm in love with one of my students. I mean, nothing's happened, much. It could if I let it... I fantasize about him constantly.
Bernadette: Sweetie, your mother died. This is grief.
Prudie Drummond: He looks at me like he's the spoon, and I'm this dish of ice cream.
Bernadette: How's Sylvia doing without Daniel?
Allegra: She's still stuck in the wounded stage. When she's ready for anger, I'm so there.
Jocelyn: I'm warning you, if Grigg starts making little remarks, I'm gonna walk out.
Bernadette: You two just keep it together for one more book.
Jocelyn: Sex is messy. Maybe Mrs. Dashwood prefers a more well-ordered life.
Grigg Harris: Maybe that's why she's such a minor character.
Jocelyn: I think if you read Austen's novels...
Grigg Harris: Oh, I have. You wanted me to, and I did.
Jocelyn: I think you'll see she always writes in favor of order and self-control. Nothing unwise.
Grigg Harris: So what, this is a rulebook?
Bernadette: We could do worse.
Prudie Drummond: He looks at me like he is the spoon and I am the dish of ice-cream.
Bernadette: It's a good thing we're reading Sense and Sensibility next.
Bernadette: Having a baby's not a crime.
Rose: Having a baby before you're married is a mortal sin!
Bernadette: I'd commit any sin, mortal or otherwise, to get the hell out of here.
Bernadette: Please don't tell her... please...
Katy: But I have to tell her! I have to.
Bernadette: Fine. But if you do I'll kill myself, and you know what that means? It means I'll go straight to hell and so will you, because in God's eyes you'll be a murderer, same as me.
Katy: No, no! That's not true! That's not true?
Bernadette: You can shove your friendly face up your not so friendly arse.
Margaret: Crispina, why did you want to kill yourself?
Bernadette: Jesus, that's a stupid thing to ask, Elizabeth!
Margaret: I'm just trying to stop her from killing herself.
Bernadette: I know what you're trying to do. I just don't know why you're doing it.
Rose: I'll write to you.
Rose: Good luck.
Bernadette: Please, Sister, Katie's dead.
Sister: May she rest in peace.
Sister: Remember this beating, girl.
Bernadette: It's not a fucking chimney
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