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Mr Wilkinson:
It's a great burden, Granville. Being holier than everybody else. But I enjoy it.

Mr Wilkinson:
Next time you feel desperate for an egg, lad, pause, and remember where it's come from. The world's full of nasty places, Granville.

Mr Wilkinson:
I'll have two dozen ounces of liquorice torpedoes. They'll take your mind away from eggs.

Mrs Featherstone:
I'm not a religious woman, but I find if you say no to everything you can hardly tell the difference.

Mrs Blewitt:
I wouldn't give tuppence for his kidneys. How much is your boiled ham?

Nurse Gladys Emmanuel:
What are your meringues like?

Arkwright:
I'm not telling you till after we're married.

Mrs Blewitt:
So. You're going to Parslow's funeral.

Arkwright:
Yes. Even though it's very unlikely that he'll ever come to mine.

Arkwright:
Don't just crit there siticizing!

Granville:
[exasperated at Arkwright's tight-fistedness] You're not going to live forever you know.

Arkwright:
I'm goin' to have a d-damn good try, aren't you?

Nurse Gladys Emmanuel:
She has a face like a fit.

Arkwright:
Aye, but what it would fit, I'll never know. It is like her facial muscles don't know the meaning of the word "teamwork".

Arkwright:
D'ya know what you need? A good walloping.

Nurse Gladys Emmanuel:
Oh, yeah and who's gonna give it to me?

Arkwright:
I? I? I am.

Nurse Gladys Emmanuel:
Oh, three of you.

Arkwright:
Oh, you wound me sometimes, Granville!

Granville:
How?

Arkwright:
That time I sat on your bicycle clip springs to mind.

Granville:
The nurse will be watching!

Granville:
[about to put a note in the shop till] Do you reckon they can stitch fingers back on these days?

Arkwright:
I want a w-w-word with you.

Granville:
That's three words.

Arkwright:
That girl of Grimshaw's.

Granville:
Big Edna?

Arkwright:
Have you been kn-kn-knocking

Granville:
I have only admired her from a distance.

Arkwright:
Let me finish. Have you been kn-kn-knocking coppers off her weekly order?

Granville:
You do the same for Mrs Featherstone.

Arkwright:
Not without putting them back somewhere else.

Arkwright:
Scotch broth? That's very exotic. I'm afraid I don't have any in small tins. Only large tins.

Mavis:
Oh.

Arkwright:
I can't cut it in half Mavis. It all f-flops out. Tell you what. I'll sell you a large tin but I'll only charge you for two small tins.

Arkwright:
Oh, so we're giving flowers to the milkwoman's boyfriend now?

Granville:
You won't let me buy firelighters. You say they're too expensive.

Arkwright:
They are in this damn shop. I'm not paying these prices! Get round the Co-op and buy some. [pause] Go and open a packet.

Granville:
[leaves the room, to return a few seconds later] Not if they're going to count as my birthday present.

Nurse Gladys Emmanuel:
My God! There's nothing frightens you more than a furtive grocer.

Mrs Featherstone:
[Granville has just walked into Mrs. Featherstone] Not even my husband used to get that close.

Arkwright:
[to Granville] Dear God! Where did you catch her?

Arkwright:
You look all sinister and Hungarian.

Granville:
Hungarians don't look like this.

Arkwright:
Badly-dressed Hungarians do.

Granville:
I look like an idiot.

Arkwright:
Yes.

Arkwright:
I hate that scrunching sound errand boys make when you have to stand on them.

Mrs. Parslow:
I'll have a large washing-up liquid.

Arkwright:
I think I'll join you.

Granville:
Well, there's a great day for discoveries. My mother was the fisherman's friend and I've got a bottom half called Hugo.

Arkwright:
Well done! And you certainly have been.

Granville:
Look at the time! Quarter to nine and I'm held here in the clutches of my wicked uncle.

Arkwright:
Your uncle is going to be wicked across the road, clutching something else entirely.

Granville:
I've got the blood of poets and lovers in my veins.

Arkwright:
[as Granville leaves] Yes. And at least one electrician.

Milk Round Supervisor:
Seriously, have you thought about a drawbridge?

Arkwright:
G-Granville? How do you spell p-p-p-p-pepper? Is it six p's or seven?

[repeated line]

Arkwright:
Granville, fetch your cloth!

Mavis:
I don't know whether to take a tin of luncheon meat.

Arkwright:
Is it on your list?

Mavis:
Yes...

[Arkwright goes half-way round the shop to fetch a tin of luncheon meat and comes back with it]

Mavis:
...But I crossed it out.

Arkwright:
Didn't you hear the weather fore-fore-forecast?

Granville:
The "fore-fore-forecast"? That's three fours are twelve... don't you mean the weather "twelvecast"?

Granville:
[about Arkwright] Did you know that the last time he was out all day was back in 1957?

The Milk Woman:
1957? Where did he go?

Granville:
Have his appendix out.

Arkwright:
You've got the evenings free, haven't you?

Granville:
Yeah, knowing you, they'd HAVE to be free. Anyway, WHAT evenings? We don't close here 'till nine o'clock at night.

Arkwright:
One day, Granville, all this will be y-yours. Lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock, stock and barrel. I'm always t-telling you this.

Granville:
Yes I know, every time I ask for a rise.

Arkwright:
That damn spring clip! If it gets any more vicious I'll have to take it round the vets and have it put down.

Arkwright:
Did you see that, Granville? Mrs. Ellis the bread strangler? Terrible what that creature does to a sliced loaf. Every day she can't wait to get her hands on it, clawing and bashing and thumping it. God knows what she does with it when she gets it home.

VAT Man:
[wiping his feet furiously on doorstep] Damn dogs!

Albert Arkwright:
Oh dear, dear. dear - you certainly seem to have got your fifteen percent of that lot.

VAT Man:
Is it off?

Albert Arkwright:
Well it doesn't smell too fresh to me.

Albert Arkwright:
How much would you take for a swollen chest?

Nurse Gladys Emmanuel:
More than you'd pay.

Arkwright:
G-Good Afternoon, what can I do you for?

Nurse Gladys Emmanuel:
[not taking much notice] ...two packets of peppermints...

Arkwright:
Oh, that sounds very reasonable, I accept.