- Lucas North: Come on then, Ros. Small-talk me a little.
- Ros Myers: Okay... um, my perfume is made from the anal glands of cats. I read that in the paper this morning.
- Ros Myers: You have to admit that if there was a war between India and Pakistan it would sort out a few issues.
- Lucas North: Can't think why Nightingale haven't tried to recruit you.
- Ros Myers: It's been gnawing away at me as well.
- Lucas North: I bet it has...
- Harry Pearce: Do you still sing, in your choir?
- Ruth Evershed: Yes... we're doing Beethoven tonight... Ode To Joy
- Harry Pearce: Alle menschen...
- Ruth Evershed: ...werden bruder
- Harry Pearce: All men will be brothers
- Ruth Evershed: Under gentle wings...
- [Harry turns away, overcome by emotion for a moment, Ruth lays a hand on his arm]
- Ruth Evershed: Harry? Harry all men are brothers, that's why we shed tears for people we don't know