- Richard Carlyon: It's not that I'm frightened, you know, it's not that at all.
- John Steed: No, no.
- Richard Carlyon: To tell you the truth, I'm absolutely petrified. I mean, I'm not cut out for this sort of stuff, murder, mayhem, lurkings after dark, attacks by young savages, not to mention the damp!
- John Steed: The damp?
- Richard Carlyon: Yes... yes, the... always gets me here.
- [gestures to a place on his back but hits Steed's instead]
- John Steed: Ooh!
- Richard Carlyon: Oh, I, I do beg your pardon, I thought that was me. Old wound you know.
- John Steed: Really? German bullet, World War Two?
- Richard Carlyon: Umbrella. January sales. Darn stupid woman.
- Richard Carlyon: [referring to the death of Broom] Distressing business.
- Emma Peel: Very.
- Richard Carlyon: Yes, it quite spoiled my appetite when I heard.
- Emma Peel: Ruined James Broom's.
- Richard Carlyon: What? Oh, yes, yes, I see what you mean.
- John Pettit: I take it, that if someone were to suggest that one man in the right place and at the right time could himself change the course of history, you would disagree?
- Dr. Gordon Henge: Mr. Pettit, since I have spent the last hour saying so, you may take it that I would disagree.
- Richard Carlyon: I think what Pettit was trying to suggest, sir, is that for the past...
- [looks at his watch]
- Richard Carlyon: ... eh, 53 minutes, you have assaulted our ears with a load of stupid, pretentious old rubbish.
- Dr. Gordon Henge: Mr. Duboys, you have the manners of a gutter snipe!
- Richard Carlyon: There you are, you see, it gets progressively more hysterical. It is not an economic thesis, it's a political document. And it reeks of ideals and dogma.
- John Steed: With the faintest whiff of jackboots.
- Richard Carlyon: Good heavens.
- Eric Duboys: Dr. Henge...
- Millerson: Dear Dr. Henge.
- Allen: Poor, dear Dr. Henge.
- John Pettit: Poor, dear, sad Dr. Henge.
- Emma Peel: What on earth are you doing here anyway, Steed?
- John Steed: Advanced research into the co-relationship of the lesser-crested newt and Mrs. Sybil Peabody.
- Emma Peel: Mrs. Sybil Peabody?
- John Steed: An aunt of mine. Drinks like a fish.
- Emma Peel: Steed. So you've finally decided on your costume. The Sheriff of, eh... Bashful Ben?
- John Steed: Nottingham.
- Emma Peel: Well, I hate to mention, in all the books I've read, the Sheriff is a baddy.
- John Steed: Beneath this doublet beats a generous heart.