[Sam's coming down the one-way street with some food in both hands, about to step on the walkway when a cyclist from behind almost hits him]
Oi! [upset] Keep it on the road! [walks along some steps, adding semi-joking/sternly] Comin' 'round your house, stamp on your toys!"
[After hearing his mothers voice on the police radio, followed by that of Phyllis, the police receptionist]
No, it's Jane Fonda on the hunt for men!
Bingo! I got one. Martin Ellis, lorry driver. Waiting for a fabrics pick-up at 2:30 this morning. Spotted a thickset man running of the loom hall.
[Chris shows Sam a black and white picture with a head looking like a butternut squash with ears]
Chris, have you ever seen anybody that looks like that?
It's the best we could do.
It's a doddle, then. We're looking for someone with hamster's cheeks, a nose like Audrey Hepburn and a two-foot forehead.
You're not on your own. Nobody is! Not unless you want to be.
[To another police officer examining blood on the floor]
Oi! Hairy Mary, shift yourself. You're in the way.
Chief culprit is Ted Bannister. I want him in custody by teatime.
What, because he spoke first?
'Cos he's guilty as sin, and he's a Commie bastard.
Sorry, that's bollocks. Total rubbish.
You're just itching to get your blood-spillage book out, aren't ya!
You're making him prime suspect based on what, a hunch?
Why are you trying to make me look like a clown? Litton's gonna have a field day when he finds out you left four untraceable shooters out there.
This isn't about Litton. And don't blame me for this. You dumped it on me!
I thought you said you could multi... story... task... Whatever!
Say goodnight, Gracie, and sit down. I said sit down!
Look. You've gotta open the mill. We can't afford to lose this order.
The mill stays shut until our inquiry is over.
[shouting] For god's sakes!
[shouting] SIT DOWN, OR I'LL SIT YOU DOWN! NOW!
[To Sam about the tin of Party Seven beer]
Oi, Romeo. Are we gonna open this bog water or what?
[about Ted Bannister] Tenner says he did it.
Tenner and a tin of Party Seven.
If you think that I'm going to reduce a murder investigation to the level of a playground bet--
[to the accompaniment of chicken noises from Ray] Cowardy cowardy custard. Can't cut the mustard.
[Preparing guns before the shoot-out]
Yeah, but can you hit anything?
You should see my Playstation scores.
Drop your weapons! You are surrounded by armed bastards!
What's your problem,Tyler?
My problem!?! My problem...would rock...your...world!
You make it sound like a war.
Worth killing for? How did you kill him, by the way?
Look, I told you, I went home.
Liar. Liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar!
I want to see some sort of lawyer.
Will someone please put some bog roll in the toilets! I've just had to wipe my arse on Francis Lee!
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Life on Mars pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.