50 Best The Royle Family Quotes

Jim: [on Christmas Day] This is one day of the year we all get together to watch the bloody television, and look at this shite they put on!

Barbara: Antony, take that chicken out to the bins, will you, love? That chicken will start to stink if we leave it out.
Antony: Mam, I've just sat down,
[points at Jim]
Antony: what about lazy-arse here?
Barbara: 'Ey! There's to much swearing in this house.
[turns to Jim]
Barbara: That's you, that is, Jim, you've taught him that!
Jim: Taught him my arse!

Barbara: [in a discussion of homosexuals] Well, I don't care what anybody is--I don't care whether they're gay, straight or Australian. It's what they're like as a person that matters.
Jim: Aye, aye Barb, steady on there, will ya? This ain't Live Aid you know, its just my bloody birthday.
Barbara: Oh, you're a sarcastic bugger, you are, Jim!

Jim: Your bloody Nana's bloody more interested in bloody Coronation bloody Street than the baby!
Barbara: Jim, how many bloodies is that?

Denise: Cheryl, you look absolutely gorgeous.
Barbara: Oh, I love the way you've done your eyes. What have you used?
Cheryl: It's Boots own Number 7.
Dave: What's on the other eye?
[Jim chuckles]

Jim: Antony, if that's the invisible man, tell him I can't see him.

Norma: Ey, I tell you who is in hospital, Gwen's husband.
Barbara: Ooh, what's he having done?
Norma: He's having something fitted.
Jim: What--a wardrobe?

Norma: [talking about Dave and Denise's honeymoon] So, where is it you're going again?
Denise: Tenerife.
Norma: Ooh, that'll be gorgeous, won't it! Me and your grandad went to Blackpool for a week in a B&B. It's a Harry Ramsden's now, which is quite fitting as we met in a fish shop, It was after the town hall dance, I went there with my friend Betty.
Barbara: Oh, Betty.
Barbara: She married a joiner, moved to Leeds, he knocked her about a bit, but her home was lovely.
Mary: Do you ever hear from her, Norma?
Norma: No, I never liked her even when we were best friends.

Denise: Can we stop talking about Nana dying?
Jim: Yeah, have a little bit of respect... wait till she's gone out the door.
[laughs]

Norma: Is this hat too far forward?
Jim: No, we can still see your face.

[Emma and her parents have been invited to the house for Christmas Day; Jim is telling Roger about his career prospects]
Jim: I've joined the dance
Roger: What dance is that, Jim?
Jim: The REDUNdance

Jim: [talking about Joe] Look out, here comes Mastermind.

Jim: I'm off for a chat with the Arabs. Mustafa Crap.

Jim: I'm going for a tom tit.

Denise: Well, I don't care what anybody is. I don't care whether they're gay, straight or Australian. It's what they're like as a person that matters.
Jim: Alright, Barb, steady on there, will ya. It's not bloody Live Aid, ya know. It's just me bloody birthday.

Barbara: [about her mother on the phone] It's shocking, really, you know--she's 82.
Jim: Why? What's happened?
Barbara: Well, she went down the Precinct and she had this voucher--and it was one day out of date and the miserable sod of a manager wouldn't let her have the money off!
Jim: How much was it worth?
Barbara: 20p.
Jim: 20p? It'll cost her more than that to ring every bugger she knows to tell!

Dave: 'Ey, I'm rough today, me, me guts are well off, I had a bad pint last night.
Jim: I bet you washed them down with a few more, though, didn't you?
Antony: How d'ya know if it's a bad pint?
Dave: Cos you can shit through the eye of a needle.
Jim: Where did you go?
Dave: Pear Tree.
Jim: Bloody hell, you don't wanna drink in there.
Dave: Well, I know that now, don't I?
Jim: Bloody hell. He doesn't clean his pumps him.
Antony: No, actually the lager's all right.
Jim: How would you know, soft lad?
Antony: Dad, I'm 15.
Jim: 'Ey! Listen, if I ever catch you in The Feathers, I'll clip you round the bloody ear, you do not shit on your own doorstep!
Dave: I nearly did last night, I couldn't get the key in quick enough.

Barbara: Is there 'owt on, Jim?
Jim: No.
Barbara: 'Ey Jim, Jim, d'ya fancy an early night?
Jim: There must be bloody something on, mustn't there!

Denise: I'm only not smoking in front of Baby David until he's old enough to get up and walk out of the room, then it's his choice.

Denise: Dad, stop fiddling with yourself.
Jim: I'm not fiddling with meself, I paid a quid for these underpants and I've got about 50 pence worth stuck up me arse.
Barbara: She's right. If you're not picking your arse, you're picking your teeth.
Jim: I'll pick what I want in me own house and when she gets her own house she can pick what she likes--her nose, her arse, her teeth. Just go and treat yourself.
Barbara: Oh, I'm ashamed of this family, I am really.

Mary: Michelle, I think I have one of your children in my class.
Michelle: Are you a teacher, Mary?
Mary: Yes.
Barbara: No, you're not a teacher, you're a dinnerlady!
Mary: Oh, yes.

Jim: I'm gonna go and have a chat with the Arabs.
Cheryl: What d'ya mean Jim?
Jim: Mustapha Crap.

Antony: [referring to Nana] Dad, has she really got a load of antiques?
Jim: Has she, my arse!

Norma: Is this hat too far forward?
Jim: No, we can still see your face. I'm only jokin' Norma.

Denise: Shall we go down The Feathers for the last hour?
Dave: No, I'm knackered.
Denise: OK. I'm not bothered anyway--we can always stay in and watch the telly.
Dave: Is there owt on?
Denise: No.
Dave: Well, we may as well go down the Feathers then.
Denise: You were too knackered to go a minute ago!
Barbara: Oh, let him go for a drink if that's what he wants!
Denise: I just asked him! He said he was too knackered to go!
Dave: Do you wanna go or what?
Denise: I wanted to go in the first place. I'm not going now anyway--you've annoyed me.

Cheryl: What have you given me Mam? She's gone as giddy as a kipper.
Barbara: Oh, she's had a mug of Pomagne.
Cheryl: Oh, I love Pomagne.
Barbara: Oh, I'm sorry, love. There's none left. There's a can of lager going begging.
Cheryl: Oh, no thanks, Barbara, I'm dieting. Me Mam's sponsoring me.
Jim: How much do you owe her?
[chuckles]

Barbara: [talking about Cheryl] Have you asked her to be bridesmaid?
Denise: Aw, yeah, aw, she was thrilled.
Jim: Bridesmaid, my arse, she'll look like a bloody Easter egg on legs.
Antony: Yeah, and the only reason you're having her as a bridesmaid is to make you look better.
Denise: Get lost, Antony!
Barbara: Is she really on a diet?
Denise: Yeah.
Barbara: D'ya think she'll ever get married?
Antony: Who'd have her?
Jim: Stevie Wonder.
Antony: [laughs] Yeah.

[On hearing that Denise is pregnant]
Jim: At least you can do something bloody properly!

Norma: Would you like a sandwich, love?
Dave: No thanks, Nana.
Norma: There's no Picalilly left in this jar.
Jim: You're joking. Do you think we can continue with the celebrations in the face of that revelation?

Barbara: Oh, so, Cheryl, how's the diet coming along?
Cheryl: Oh, really, really, well, thanks.
Barbara: Aww, would you like a biscuit?
Cheryl: Yeah.

Denise: [talking about Dave and Beverly Macca] Every time when I come out of the toilet she was round him, right, like flies, right, round shit.
[to Dave]
Denise: And you're the shit, and she? She's not even the fly because she's too fat to be the fly and she's the shit and that's what they are, they're two shovels of shit.
Barbara: You don't have to bring shit into it, love.

Barbara: How's your diet going, Cheryl?
Cheryl: Oh, all right thanks, yeah, Barbara, I lost 4 pounds... and then I put 2 back on and then another 2. But I've not gained any.
Barbara: Oh, well, I think you're doing ever so well to stick to it, love.

Barbara: Antony, go and put that bin out, love. That chicken will start to stink if we leave it.
Antony: Mam! I've just sat down. What about lazy-arse here?
[points to Denise]
Barbara: Hey! There's too much swearing in this house. That's you, that is, Jim. You taught them that.
Jim: Taught them, my arse!

Denise: Aw, Mam! Will you go and get rid of the knob'ead I'm marrying?

Norma: [to Barbara] I'll tell you who is in hospital. Gwen's husband.
Barbara: Ohh. What's he having done?
Norma: He's having something fitted.
Jim: What? A wardrobe?
[chuckles to himself]

Jim: Woah-ho, if you lot take my advice, you won't go near that lavatory for at least half an hour and whatever you do don't strike a bloody match.
Denise: Dad, we've got company.
Jim: Well, it's only Dave, he's as bloody bad.
Denise: Why do you have to announce it every time you go to the toilet?
Jim: I'm only making polite conversation, what's the do with her?
Denise: Well, we could do without it, thanks all the same.
Jim: [to Barbara] And what do you keep buying that bloody cheap toilet paper for? It's cutting my arse to ribbons.
Denise: Mam, tell him, he's doing it on purpose now.
Barbara: When I was buying the dear stuff you complained.
Jim: [taken aback] I didn't.
Barbara: You did, said you 'may as well wipe your arse on pound notes.
Jim: [Jim starts to laugh hysterically] Oh, yeah, I did, yeah, I did, yeah.

Jim: Anne Robinson, my arse! Watchdog? I am watching a bloody dog!

Denise: What time are we going down the Feathers?
Jim: Well, as soon as you're ready.
Cheryl: Right, I'll nip home and make meself beautiful.
Jim: Oh, are you just coming for last orders then?
[chuckles to himself]

Barbara: Get the door, will ya, Antony?
Antony: I have to do everything around here!
Jim: It's probably Snow White looking for you, Grumpy!

Jim: I paid a quid for these pants and I've got fifty pence worth stuck up me arse.

Denise: [to Dave] Every time you do a gig round here, that cow is there!
Jim: What's going on now?
Barbara: Oh, they're arguing about Beverly Macca.
Jim: She's all right, Beverly. She's a tasty little piece.

Norma: Where's your best man, Barry, innit?
Dave: No, Gary. He's got to work, he can't get the morning off, he's coming straight from the butcher's.
Jim: It's all we want, innit, the church stinking of bloody mince.
Twiggy: Ey, you know what'll happen, don't ya, he'll put his hand in his pocket for the ring and pull out a pork chop.

Norma: I never drink, me, just a sherry at Christmas, whiskey at New Year, and a bottle of stout.

Norma: May God forgive you, Jim Royle, for talking ill of the dead like that.
Jim: I wasn't speaking ill of the dead, I was speaking about you, the living bloody dead!

Denise: You're tight as a crab's arse, you, Dad.
Jim: Crab's arse, my arse, it's two pound fifty phoning next door!

Barbara: [Denise's waters have broken] Oh Denise! You're going to give birth on Christmas Day!
Jim: Jesus!

Norma: [after Dave agrees to take her home] Oh, you're a good'n. I'll leave you something nice in my will.
Dave: Hey--why wait till then? There'll be plenty of room in the back of the van when you get out--I've had my eye on that clock of yours.
Norma: Ha, ha--you cheeky begger. Hugh Scully'd give us a few bob for that.
Denise: Will you stop talking about Nana dying?
Jim: Yeah! Have a little bit of respect--wait till she's gone out of the door.
[laughs]
Jim: Oh, I'm only joking, Norma--bloody hell, it'll be a sad day in this house when you snuff it... if we don't get that clock.
Barbara: Oh--he hasn't got a heart, Mam--he's got a swinging brick.

Jim: Get your coat on, Barb.
Barbara: Are you taking me with you?
Jim: No, I'm gonna turn the fire off... of course I'm taking you. I wouldn't leave you here on me birthday, would I? Better bring your purse.
Barbara: [quietly] Ugh.

Denise: Dad! Your flies are undone!
Jim: Ah, the cage might be open, but the beast is asleep.
Barbara: Beast, my arse!

Mary: Look at Antony's hair. He looks like a little choirboy.
Jim: He looks like a little gay boy.