“Look! Those tourists have already arrived. And they pitch their tents IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET! It's bloody awful.”

– bicycle repairman

“Well, there are more ways than one of getting close to your ancestors. Follow the old road, and as you walk, think of them and of the old England. They climbed Chillingbourne Hill, just as you. They sweated and paused for breath just as you did today. And when you see the bluebells in the spring and the wild thyme, and the broom and the heather, you're only seeing what their eyes saw. You ford the same rivers. The same birds are singing. When you lie flat on your back and rest, and watch the clouds sailing, as I often do, you're so close to those other people, that you can hear the thrumming of the hoofs of their horses, and the sound of the wheels on the road, and their laughter and talk, and the music of the instruments they carried. And when I turn the bend in the road, where they too saw the towers of Canterbury, I feel I've only to turn my head, to see them on the road behind me.”

– Thomas Colpeper, JP

 

“We wanted the money but we wanted to burn it more.”

– Bill Drummond

“Now I know you're trying to get away from me —– but your vice is like a room locked from the inside and only I have the key…”

– bouquet card

“He won't listen to anybody. He's been very crazy all summer. Since June he's been trying to kill me.”

– Leon