Hey, Aziraphale! I see you found a ride. Nice dress. Suits you.

I'm lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?

"My miracles aren't working." "Neither are mine."

Be easier if we both stayed home, if we just sent messages back to our head offices saying we'd done everything they'd asked for, wouldn't it?

“Right. Got it. T’rrific." “Young man?” “Yes?” “Very unusual weather for the time of year.” “I'm afraid I hadn't noticed.” “That's probably because your stupid car is on fire!”

“Be here at nine of the clock in the morning, afore you leave.” “What for?” “Your armour of righteousness.”

Banana, fish, gorilla, shoe lace, with a dash of nutmeg?

“Crowley, he's in trouble.” “Then we should get as far from him as we can, as quickly as possible.”

"Er, I've got pins... and the Thundergun of Witchfinder Colonel Dalrymple. It'll fire anything. Silver bullets.” “That's werewolves.” “Er, garlic?” “Vampires.” “Mmm. Bricks?” “That should do nicely. Ha!”

The book Agnes left behind her was the sole prophetic work in all of human history to consist entirely of completely correct predictions concerning the following 350-odd years, being a precise and accurate description of the events that would culminate in Armageddon.

It's... It's about the Antichrist.

Sorry. All lines to London are currently busy.

"This is something new." "This is something completely bonkers. Are we— Why is everyone talking like they just came from Pride and Prejudice?"

All the days had been nice.

Oh, good Lord, you're an American tourist. Sorry. Thought you were a person of interest.

For Heaven's sake. And I mean that most literally. You don't know me? Well, uh, what about you? Demon? Do you know me?

Nah, they don't talk to him anymore.

“How's the car?” “Not a scratch on it. How's the bookshop? “Not a smudge. Not a book burned. Everything back just the way it was. You heard from your people yet?” “Yours?” “Nothing.”

"The angel went to Edinburgh." "Which angel?" "You know which one. Crowley's pet."

"'The Resurrectionist.'" "Pub. Has a jukebox. This record was found on the jukebox." "So what?" "So first it wasn't on the jukebox. It doesn't seem to matter what people in the pub want to listen to, sooner or later every record turns into this. It is, as you might say... a miracle."

The book Agnes left behind her was the sole prophetic work in all of human history to consist entirely of completely correct predictions concerning the following 350-odd years, being a precise and accurate description of the events that would culminate in Armageddon.

Well, for Heaven's sake, we are meant to make examples out of traitors. So... into the flame.

I'm so sorry to hear it.

Um... Can I get back to you on that? I think right now I'm a bit out of miracles.

Anyway, is it wicked? She needed the money.

I'll just go to head office and explain it all.

The book Agnes left behind her was the sole prophetic work in all of human history to consist entirely of completely correct predictions concerning the following 350-odd years, being a precise and accurate description of the events that would culminate in Armageddon.

I went to one meeting ten years ago, they were wittering on about the Christmas lights and passed a resolution condemning the improper use of apostrophes on signs in windows. There is literally nothing that would get me there tonight.

You are speaking to the Metatron, Aziraphale. To speak to me is to speak to God. I am the voice of the Almighty.

"You realize I can feel when you drive the Bentley under the speed limit." "Well I'm sure you can't." "I can. So put your foot down!"

Look at you! You're gorgeous!

'I am in the fly.' What fly?

She never. She bloody… She can't have predicted that.

I don't feel anything out of the ordinary.

Hello traitor.

Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. First offence and everything. I can't see what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil, anyway.

“What I need is for him to be nowhere near me, and the precious, peaceful, fragile existence that I have carved out for myself here.” “I thought we carved it out for ourselves.” “So did I!”

"No, thank you. See, I have a permit." "A permit? From whom?" "From God."

It almost sounds like you like him.

We call it the Second Coming.

Ooh, listen. I think it's about to happen. The awning of a new age. I'll see you when you get back.

"I don't want your help." "But you were right! Body snatching alleviates human suffering. That is a good thing. So I can help this time." "I don't trust you! I don't know what you did, but you made that happen."

You know, as Supreme Archangel, you would be able to decide who to work with.

Aye, she is obviously mad.

‘Fraternising’?

No, you didn't. Well, don't let me interrupt you. Go on. Show him the trial.

Err, no. Thank you. I was trying to tell you about this. My Clue.

"What's keeping him?" "I believe he's taking off his clothes and cleaning out his desk." "He really... he doesn't have a desk."

Uh, well, there was a fire here once, you see. And, um... well, books can go up like... Well, anyway...

"Well, maybe there is something to be said for... shades of grey." "Well, shades of... dark grey." "Shades of very light grey, I rather fancy."