William: That is a cheap question and the answer is, of course, no comment.
Max: "No comment" means "yes."
William: No, it doesn't.
Max: Do you ever masturbate?
William: DEFINITELY no comment.
Max: You see? It means "yes."
Anna: Wait, what about me?
Max: Sorry, you think you deserve the brownie?
Anna: Well, a shot at it, at least, huh?
William: Well, you'll have to fight me for it- this is a very good brownie.
Anna: I've been on a diet every day since I was nineteen, which basically means I've been hungry for a decade. I've had a series of not-nice boyfriends, one of whom hit me. Ah, and every time I get my heart broken, the newspapers splash it about as though it's entertainment. And it's taken two rather painful operations to get me looking like this.
Anna: Really. [indicates nose and chin] And, one day, not long from now, my looks will go, they'll discover I can't act and I'll become some sad, middle-aged woman who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while.
Max: [long pause] Nah, nice try, gorgeous, but you don't fool anyone. [all laugh]
William: Pathetic effort to hog the brownie.
William: [slipping while trying to climb a fence] Whoopsidaisies!
Anna: What did you say?
Anna: Yes you did.
William: No I didn't.
Anna: You said "whoopsidaisies".
William: I don't think so. No one says "whoopsidaisies" do they? Unless they're...
Anna: There is no "unless." No one has said "whoopsidaisies" for fifty years and even then it was only just little girls with blonde ringlets.
William: Exactly. Right, here we go again. [he falls off the fence again] Whoopsidaisies. It's a disease I've got. It's a clinical thing. I'm taking pills and having injections. I'm told it won't last long.
William: [after hitting his shin on a fence while climbing over it] Now what in the world in this garden could make that ordeal worthwhile?
[Anna kisses him]
William: Nice garden.
William: [leaving the restaurant after challenging the loud guys] I'm sorry.
Anna: No, I love that you tried. Time was I'd have done the same thing. In fact...[turns back and walks up to the loud table] Hi.
Loud Man in Restaurant: Oh. My. God.
Anna: I just wanted to apologize for my friend - he's very sensitive.
Loud Man in Restaurant: No, I mean...
Anna: No, leave it. I'm sure you didn't mean any harm, I'm sure it was just friendly banter, I'm sure you guys have dicks the size of peanuts. Enjoy your dinner, the tuna's really good.
William: There's this girl...
Spike: Aha, see I've been getting a female vibe. Good. Speak on, dear friend.
William: Ah, see she's someone who can't be mine. And, uh it's as if I've taken love heroin and now I can't ever have it again. I've opened Pandora's box and there's trouble inside.
Spike: [pause] Yeah. Tricky. I knew a girl at school called Pandora...never got to see her box though. [laughs]
William: Right. Well thanks, that's very helpful.
Max: Let's face facts, this was always a no-win situation. Anna's a goddess; you know what happens to mortals who get involved with gods.
William: Buggered, is it?
Max: Every time.
Keziah: No, thanks, I'm a fruitarian.
Max: I didn't realize that.
William: And, ah, what exactly is a fruitarian?
Keziah: We believe that fruits and vegetables have feelings, so we think cooking is cruel. We only eat things that've actually fallen off a tree or bush- that are, in fact, dead already.
William: Right, right. Interesting stuff. So, uh these carrots...?
Keziah: Have been murdered, yes.
William: Murdered? Poor old carrots. How beastly!
Bella: Do you want to stay?
William: Why not? All that awaits me at home is a masturbating Welshman.
Anna: The thing that's so irritating is that now I'm so totally fierce when it comes to nudity clauses.
William: You actually have clauses in your contract about nudity?
Anna: Definitely. "You may show the dent of the top of the artist's buttocks, but neither cheek. Or, if there's a stunt bottom being used, artists must have full consultation".
William: You have a stunt bottom?
Anna: Well, I could have a stunt bottom, yes.
William: Are people tempted to go for better bottoms than their own?
Anna: Well, yeah, I would. This is important stuff.
William: Well, that's one hell of a job, isn't it? What do you put on your passport? "Occupation, 'Mel Gibson's bottom.'"
Anna: Actually, Mel does his own ass work.
Anna: Why wouldn't he?
Anna: What is it about men and nudity? Particularly breasts? How can you be so interested in them?
Anna: I mean, seriously- they're just breasts, every second person in the world has them.
William: Oh, more than that, when you think about it: you know, Meat Loaf has a very nice pair!
Anna: [laughing] But... they're odd looking, they're for milk, your mother has them, you've seen a thousand of them. What's all the fuss about?
William: Actually, I can't think of what it is, really. Let me just have a quick look... [peeks under blanket] No, no, beats me.
Anna: [laughs] Yeah. Rita Hayworth used to say, "They go to bed with Gilda, they wake up with me."
William: Who's Gilda?
Anna: Her most famous part. Men went to bed with the dream, they didn't like it when they'd wake up with the reality. Do you feel that way?
William: You are lovelier this morning than you have ever been.
William: The thing is, with you I'm in real danger. It seems like a perfect situation, apart from that foul temper of yours, but my relatively inexperienced heart would I fear not recover if I was, once again, cast aside as I would absolutely expect to be. There's just too many pictures of you, too many films. You know, you'd go and I'd be... uh, well buggered basically.
Anna: That really is real now, is it?
William: I live in Notting Hill, you live in Beverly Hills. Everyone in the world knows who you are; my mother has trouble remembering my name.
Anna: Fine. Fine. Good decision. [Nods her head] Good decision. [After a pause] The fame thing isn't really real you know? And don't forget I'm... I'm also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
William: ...What do you think? Good move?
Honey: Good move. When all is said and done, she's nothing special. I saw her taking her trousers down and I definitely glimpsed some cellulite down there.
Bella: Good decision. All actresses are as mad as snakes.
William: Tony, what do you think?
Tony: Never met her, never want to.
William: Brilliant. Max?
Max: Absolutely. Never trust a vegetarian.
William: Great. Thanks. Brilliant.
Spike: I was called and I came. What's up?
Honey: William's just turned down Anna Scott.
Spike: [shocked] You daft prick!
Honey: No, no, no, no, it's actually quite sensible.
Bella: [looks at the painting of the Chagall that Anna gave William] That painting isn't the original, is it?
William: Umm, yeah, I think that one may be.
Bernie: But she said she wanted to go out with you?
William: Yes...sort of...
Bernie: That's nice.
Bernie: Well, you know, anyone saying they want to go out with you is...pretty great...isn't it?
William: It was sort of sweet, actually- um, I mean, I know she's an actress and all that, so she can deliver a line, but she said she might be as famous as can be, but also...that she was just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her. [pause] Oh, sod a dog, I've made the wrong decision, haven't I? [Spike nods. Another pause] Max, how fast is your car?
Bella: Which way are you going?
Max: Down Kensington Church Street, then Knightsbridge, then Hyde Park Corner.
Bella: No, crazy, crazy. Go along Bayswater-
Honey: That's right, and then Park Lane-
Bernie: No, no. Straight down to Cromwell Road, and left-
[The car slams to a halt]
Max: Stop right there! I will decide the route! All right?!
William: Sorry Max...
Max:James Bond never has to put up with this sort of shit.
P.R. Chief: Right. Yes. The gentleman in the pink shirt.
William: Yes. Miss Scott, are there any circumstances where the two of you might be more than just good friends?
Anna: I hoped there would be but no, I've been assured that there aren't.
William: But what would you say...
P.R. Chief: I'm sorry. Just the one question.
Anna: No. It's alright. You were saying?
William: I was just wondering if uh it turned out that this person...
Journalist: Thacker. His name is Thacker.
William: Right. Thanks. Just wondered if Mr. Thacker realised he'd been a daft prick and got down on his knees and begged you to reconsider whether you would in fact... reconsider.
Anna: [pause] Yes. I believe I would.
William: That's very good news. Um, the readers of Horse and Hound will be absolutely delighted.
[Anna whispers in the P.R. Chief's ear]
P.R. Chief: Right, uh...Dominic... if you'd like to ask your question again?
Journalist: Yes. Anna, how long are you intending to stay here in Britain?