Four Weddings And A Funeral quotes
68 total quotesMatthew Quotes
Minor Characters Quotes
Scarlett Quotes
THE Classic Quote
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Charles: Why am I always at, uh, weddings, and never actually getting married, Matt? Matthew: It's probably 'cause you're a bit scruffy. Or it could also be 'cause you haven't met the right girl. Charles: Ah, but you see, is that it? Maybe I have met the right girls. Maybe I meet the right girls all the time. Maybe it's me.
Charles: Why am I always at, uh, weddings, and never actually getting married, Matt? Matthew: It's probably 'cause you're a bit scruffy. Or it could also be 'cause you haven't met the right girl. Charles: Ah, but you see, is that it? Maybe I have met the right girls. Maybe I meet the right girls all the time. Maybe it's me.
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Fiona: How's Duckface? Charles: Good form actually, not too mad.
Fiona: How's Duckface? Charles: Good form actually, not too mad.
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George the boor at The Boatman: I was at school with his brother Bufty. Tremendous bloke. He was head of my house. Buggered me senseless. Still, it taught me a thing or two about life.
George the boor at The Boatman: I was at school with his brother Bufty. Tremendous bloke. He was head of my house. Buggered me senseless. Still, it taught me a thing or two about life.
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After running into his cousin, Deidre
Golly... bloody Thunderbolt City!
Golly... bloody Thunderbolt City!
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At Carrie's wedding in Scotland
It's Brigadoon! It's Bloody Brigadoon!
It's Brigadoon! It's Bloody Brigadoon!
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At Gareth's funeral:
Gareth used to prefer funerals to weddings. He said it was easier to get enthusiastic about a ceremony one had an outside chance of eventually being involved in.
In order to prepare this speech, I rang a few people, to get a general picture of how Gareth was regarded by those who met him. Fat seems to be a word people most connected with him. Terribly rude also rang a lot of bells. So very fat and very rude seems to have been a stranger's viewpoint.
On the other hand, some of you have been kind enough to ring me to tell me that you loved him, which I know he'd be thrilled to hear. You remember his fabulous hospitality... his strange experimental cooking. The recipe for "Duck à la Banana" fortunately goes with him to his grave. Most of all, you tell me of his enormous capacity for joy. When joyful, when joyful for highly vocal drunkenness.
But joyful is how I hope you'll remember him. Not stuck in a box in a church. Pick your favorite of his waistcoats and remember him that way. The most splendid, replete, big-hearted, weak-hearted as it turned out, and jolly bugger most of us ever met.
As for me, you may ask how I'll remember him, what I thought of him. Unfortunately there I run out of words. Perhaps you will forgive me if I turn from my own feelings to the words of another splendid bugger: W.H. Auden. This is actually what I want to say:
"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone. Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, Bring out the coffin... let the mourners come. Let the aeroplanes circle, moaning overhead, Scribbling on the sky the message: He is Dead. Put crepe bows 'round the white necks of the public doves, Let traffic policemen wear black, cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West. My working week and my Sunday rest. My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song, I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now, put out every one. Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun. Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."
Gareth used to prefer funerals to weddings. He said it was easier to get enthusiastic about a ceremony one had an outside chance of eventually being involved in.
In order to prepare this speech, I rang a few people, to get a general picture of how Gareth was regarded by those who met him. Fat seems to be a word people most connected with him. Terribly rude also rang a lot of bells. So very fat and very rude seems to have been a stranger's viewpoint.
On the other hand, some of you have been kind enough to ring me to tell me that you loved him, which I know he'd be thrilled to hear. You remember his fabulous hospitality... his strange experimental cooking. The recipe for "Duck à la Banana" fortunately goes with him to his grave. Most of all, you tell me of his enormous capacity for joy. When joyful, when joyful for highly vocal drunkenness.
But joyful is how I hope you'll remember him. Not stuck in a box in a church. Pick your favorite of his waistcoats and remember him that way. The most splendid, replete, big-hearted, weak-hearted as it turned out, and jolly bugger most of us ever met.
As for me, you may ask how I'll remember him, what I thought of him. Unfortunately there I run out of words. Perhaps you will forgive me if I turn from my own feelings to the words of another splendid bugger: W.H. Auden. This is actually what I want to say:
"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone. Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, Bring out the coffin... let the mourners come. Let the aeroplanes circle, moaning overhead, Scribbling on the sky the message: He is Dead. Put crepe bows 'round the white necks of the public doves, Let traffic policemen wear black, cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West. My working week and my Sunday rest. My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song, I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now, put out every one. Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun. Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."
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At the second wedding Mrs. Beaumont: Are you married?
Fiona: No.
Mrs. Beaumont: Are you a lesbian?
Fiona: Good lord! What makes you ask that?
Mrs. Beaumont: Well, it is one of the possibilites for unmarried girls nowadays, and it's rather more interesting than saying, "Oh dear, never met the right chap," eh?
Fiona: Quite right. Why be dull?
Mrs. Beaumont: Thank you.
pause
Fiona: The truth is... well, the truth is, I have met the right person, and he's not in love with me, and until I stop loving him, no one else really has a chance.
Mrs. Beaumont: Oh, what a shame.
Fiona: Yes, isn't it?
another pause
Fiona: I was a lesbian once at school, but only for about fifteen minutes.
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Carrie asks Charles's opinion on her wedding dress
It is dangerous! You know, there's nothing more off-putting in a wedding than a priest with an enormous erection, yech!
It is dangerous! You know, there's nothing more off-putting in a wedding than a priest with an enormous erection, yech!
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Charles and David are conversing in sign language with Carrie present
Charles: We were buying her a wedding dress.
David: Pathetic excuse. Who's she marrying?
Charles: Some total penis.
David: What is it about penises that they get such great wives?
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Charles is translating what his brother David is saying about Carrie in sign language
David: signing Beautiful breasts.
Charles: Err, he says, "That's a beautiful place. Hilly."
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having just seen Carrie at his own wedding
Dear Lord, forgive me for what I am about to, ah, say in this magnificent place of worship... Bugger! Bugger! Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger!
Dear Lord, forgive me for what I am about to, ah, say in this magnificent place of worship... Bugger! Bugger! Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger!
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A toast before we go into battle. True love. In whatever shape or form it may come. May we all in our dotage be proud to say, "I was adored once too."
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American wedding guest: Do you actually know Oscar Wilde?
Gareth: Not personally no. But I do know someone who could get you his fax number. Shall we dance?
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Another wedding invitation. And a list. Lovely.
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Bernard: How's it going, Lyds?
Lydia: Bloody awful.
Bernard: Oh dear, what's the problem?
Lydia: I was promised sex. Everybody said it. You'll be a bridesmaid, you'll get sex, you'll be fighting 'em off. But not so much as a tongue in sight.
Bernard: Well, I mean, if you fancy anything, I could always...
Lydia: Oh, don't be ridiculous, Bernard. I'm not that desperate.