Henry Dashwood: I think I owe you a rather large apology.
Libby Reynolds: Do you think I've waited 17 years for an apology?
Henry Dashwood: For me, it's just a stop on the campaign trail, and for Glynnis it's a chance to launch Clarissa on society.
Daphne Reynolds: Launch her? You make her sound like a ship.
Henry Dashwood: No, in Clarissa's case it's more like an intercontinental ballistic missile.
Glynnis Payne: Oh, put a cork in it, Clarissa.
Clarissa: Maybe someone should've put a cork in it seventeen years ago.
Libby Reynolds: I love you a million Swedish Fish.
Daphne Reynolds: I love you a million red M&M's.
Daphne Reynolds: Hey! What are you doing here?
Ian: You know, just another one of my glamourous jobs.
Daphne Reynolds: Oh.
Henry Dashwood: You like Co-co Puffs?
Daphne Reynolds: Dude, It's chocolate! Need I say more?
Ian: Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you are born to stand out?
Henry Dashwood: I'm not explaining this very well, am I?
Daphne Reynolds: No, not really. But I'm having fun watching you try.
Clarissa: I can't believe that little impostor is going to ruin my summer.
Fiona: She may be a lot of things, but I can't believe impostor is one of them. Technically, she's 39th in line to the throne.
Clarissa: Really, Fiona. 38 people would have to die for her to be queen.
Jane: Well, it's far less than the 72 you'd need.
Clarissa: Hmph.
Ian: Looking for me?
Daphne Reynolds: No, I was just looking for the loo.
Ian: Outside? On the terrace?
Glynnis Payne: Darling, darling, all I'm saying is before we let this hypothetical daughter blow your political career out of the water, we might at least consider doing some checking up on her.
Henry Dashwood: Now, checking up for what?
Glynnis Payne: I don't know... criminal record, blood type, triple sixes on her skull.
Henry Dashwood: Glynnis, she has a birth certificate, she has my photograph and she has my eyes.
Daphne Reynolds: I had you down as an all bran man.
Glynnis Payne: Now Daphne, we don't want to make a scene now, do we?
Libby Reynolds: Take your hand off my daughter or you won't get a scene, you'll get a Broadway Musical.
Henry Dashwood: Alistair, you've lied to me, I know you lied to Libby, so you'll forgive me if I don't give a flying fart in space what you think.
Jocelyn Dashwood: No hugging, dear. I'm British. We only show affection to dogs and horses.
Daphne Reynolds: Every year I would wish if that I was good enough you would come and find me.
