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Harbour Master: Much has been said of the strumpets of yore
Of wenches and bawdyhouse queens by the score
But I sing of a baggage that we all adore
The landlord's daughter.

Willow: Some things in their natural state have the most vivid colors.

Miss Rose: The building attached to the ground in which the body lies is no longer used for Christian worship, so whether it is still a Churchyard is debatable.

May Morrison: You'll simply never understand the true nature of sacrifice.

Sergeant Howie: And what of the true god, whose glory, churches and monasteries have been built on these islands for generations past? Now sir, what of him?
Lord Summerisle: He's dead. Can't complain, had his chance and in modern parlance, blew it.

[outside, several young girls are dancing naked over a fire]
Lord Summerisle: Afternoon Sergeant Howie. I trust the sight of the young people refreshes you.
Sergeant Howie: No sir, it does not.

Sergeant Howie: Your lordship seems strangely... unconcerned.
Lord Summerisle: I am confident your suspicions are wrong, Sergeant. We do not commit murder here. We are a deeply religious people.
Sergeant Howie: Religious? With ruined churches, no ministers, no priests... and children dancing naked!
Lord Summerisle: They do love their divinity lessons.
Sergeant Howie: But they are... a-are naked!
Lord Summerisle: Well, naturally. It's much too dangerous to jump through fire with their clothes on.

May Morrison: Can I do anything for you, Sergeant?
Sergeant Howie: No, I doubt it, seeing you're all raving mad!

Sergeant Howie: I believe in the life eternal, as promised to us by our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Lord Summerisle: That is good, for believing what you do, we confer upon you a rare gift, these days - a martyr's death.

Sergeant Howie: He brought you up to be a pagan!
Lord Summerisle: A heathen, conceivably, but not, I hope, an unenlightened one.

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