Father Dougal: Our Father, who art in heaven…
Father Ted: Hallowed.
Father Dougal: Hallowed be thy..
Father Ted: Name.
Father Dougal: Papa don’t preach…
Father Ted: Old women are closer to God than we’ll ever be. They get to that age and they don’t need the operator anymore. They’ve got the direct line.
Father Ted: Down with this sort of thing!
Dougal: Careful now!
Father Ted: Dougal, how did you get into the church? Was it like, “Collect twelve crisp packets and become a priest”?
Father Ted is demonstrating some plastic toy cows to Dougal.
Father Ted: …OK, one last time. These are small… but the ones out there are far away. Small… far away…
Father Dougal: God Ted, I’ve heard about those cults. Everyone dressing in black and saying our Lord’s going to come back and judge us all.
Father Ted: No…no Dougal, that’s us. That’s Catholicism you’re talking about there.
Bishop Brennan: You address me by my proper title, you little bollocks!
Niamh Conolly: The church in Ireland secretly had lots of potatoes during the famine, and they hid the potatoes in pillows and sold them abroad in potato fairs. And the Pope closed down a lot of the factories that were makin’ the potatoes and turned them into prisons for children.
Father Ted: God almighty, she says that as if there’s something sinister about it all! I mean, what is the problem with her?
Mrs Doyle: They were a bit obsessed with the old…S-E-X. God I’m glad I never think of that type of thing Father. That whole sexual world. God, when you think of it it’s a dirty, filthy thing, isn’t it Father? Can you imagine Father? Can you imagine Father, looking up at your husband, and him standing over you with his lad in his hand, wanting you to degrade yourself? God almighty can you imagine that Father? Can you picture it there Father? Oh get a good mental picture of it. Can you see him there? Ready to do the business?
Father Ted: Dougal! Have you been drinking?
Dougal: I have, Ted! I’ve been drinking like a mad eejit! Oh, wait! (gives a drawn-out wink to Father Fintan) No I haven’t!
Father Jack: I love my brick!
Father Ted: Ah, that’s nice. Perhaps we’re seeing a new side to Father Jack? A more caring, considerate…
(Jack suddenly hurls the brick at Ted, knocking him out)
Father Jack: Ah, feck it! Fed up with brick!
Mrs. Doyle: Oh, Pat was wondering if he could put his massive tool in my box.
Father Ted: What! How dare you!
Pat (raising an enormous adjustable spanner): Yes, too big for the milk float.
Father Dougal: It’s like a big tide of jam coming towards us, but jam made out of old women.
Eoin McLove: (shouting at a large crowd of elderly ladies) Go away! I don’t want to catch the menopause!
Mrs. Doyle: And what do you say to a cup?
Jack: Feck off cup!
Ted: God I hate hospitals.
Dougal: Do you ever notice it’s usually sick people who end up in hospitals?