Dr. Frank Bryant: Found a culture, have you Rita? Found a better song to sing? No, you found a different song to sing, and on your lips it's shrill and hollow and tuneless.
[Rita is being nosy about Frank's marriage]
Dr. Frank Bryant: We split up, Rita, because of poetry.
Rita: You what?
Dr. Frank Bryant: One day, my wife explained to me that, for the past fifteen years, my output as a poet had dealt entirely with the part of our lives in which we discovered each other.
Rita: Are you a poet?
Dr. Frank Bryant: Was. And so, to give me something new to write about, she left me. A very noble woman, my wife - she left me for the good of literature. And remarkably it worked.
Rita: What, you wrote a lot of good stuff, did ya?
Dr. Frank Bryant: No. I stopped writing altogether.
Dr. Frank Bryant: Did you know that Macbeth was a maggoty apple? Not many people know that!
[Frank has just been officially reprimanded for being drunk while giving a lecture]
Dr. Frank Bryant: Sod them, eh, Rita! Sod them!
Rita: Will they sack you?
Dr. Frank Bryant: Good God no. That would involve making a decision. Pissed is all right. To get the sack, it would have to be rape on a grand scale. And not just with students, either. That would only amount to a slight misdemeanour. No, for dismissal it would have to be nothing less than buggering the Bursar.
[Trish has just tried to kill herself; Rita goes to visit her in hospital]
Trish: Darling, why not?
Rita: Oh, Trish, don't. Come on, it's all right, don't cry. You're still here.
Trish: That's why I'm crying - it didn't work. It didn't bloody work.
Rita: Trish. Look, you didn't really mean to kill yourself. You were just...
Trish: Just what, darling? Poor Susan. You think you've got everything, don't you?
Rita: Trish, you have.
Trish: Oh yes. When I listen to poetry and music, then I can live. You see, darling, the rest of the time it's just me. And that's not enough.
Rita's Mother: There must be better songs to sing than this...
Rita: Christ! My customer! She only come in for a demi-wave, she'll come out looking like a flippin' muppet!
Collins: Doctor Bryant, I don't think you're listening to me.
Dr. Frank Bryant: Mr Collins, I don't think you're saying anything to me.
Collins: Doctor, are you drunk?
Dr. Frank Bryant: Drunk? Of course I'm drunk. You don't really expect me to teach this when I'm sober.
Collins: [angrily bundling his books together] Then you won't mind if I leave your tutorial.
Dr. Frank Bryant: Why should I mind?
[first words to Rita as she opens the door of her flat]
Trish: Wouldn't you just *die* without Mahler?
Dr. Frank Bryant: Morgan? Fuck off!
[Frank walks on campus and addresses some students]
Dr. Frank Bryant: Good afternoon.
Rita: I'm beginning to find me. It's great.
Dr. Frank Bryant: Suggest how you would resolve the staging difficulties in a production of Ibsen's Peer Gynt?