- Mary: Hating is easy. That's what I found out. It has its own ways. It just grows. The man whose clothes you are in, I hated him for years. I'd stand beside him at mass and pray, Lord let me be free of him.
- Uncle: £2 a ticket. Young Francis Thompson. Seventh son of a seventh son. Any more now for the cure?
- Mae: [shuffling cards] I used to read them round here til it got too uncomfortable. They kept turning up black. Who wants to pay to see the ace of spades?
- Danny: Am I going to cross water, Mae?
- Mae: When the last day comes, I think everyone'll turn up black, all over this city. Thousands and thousands of aces of spades on the same day at the same hour, and we'll know it not.