- Sebastian: So Hanna, is your mum and Dad still together?
- Hanna: My mother is dead.
- Sophie: [to Sebastian] Nice one, Dad.
- Sebastian: I'm sorry to hear that. I lost my mum when I was very young, so...
- Hanna: It's all right. It happened a long time ago.
- Rachel: Hanna, what did your mum die of?
- Hanna: Three bullets.
- [Sebastian chokes on his wine]
- Sophie: Mum is against plastic surgery.
- Rachel: I am.
- Sophie: Mum doesn't even wear makeup.
- Rachel: I don't. I think it's dishonest. This is my face, take it or leave it. If you study history of art or anthropology...
- Sebastian: [interjecting] Rachel got a first at Cambridge.
- Rachel: [continuing] ... you learn that red lipstick mimics arousal and suggests the geography of the labia minora.
- Sophie: [interrupting] Puke!
- Rachel: [continuing] Whereas I have a lot of natural red pigment in my lips, so I really don't need it.
- Sophie: Vomitorium!
- Rachel: I feel so grounded in the countryside. The city stifles me, emotionally, creatively, spiritually. Places like this bring us closer to God.
- Hanna: God?
- Rachel: Well, not in any monotheistic sense. Buddha, Krishna, the god within. Whatever you believe in.
- [pause]
- Rachel: What do you believe in, Hanna?
- [gets no response, laughs]
- Rachel: Nothing.
- Hanna: Why do I need a piece of paper to tell me my name?
- Knepfler: Not you. Not you, my dear, but everyone else. We need paper and computers so we don't have to ask people their names or look them in the face. You have a good face. You look just like your father. And you walk like him, too.
- [playfully imitating an ape]