- [first lines]
- Margaret Meldrew: That's the little café where we used to go for our breakfast. That was our last day in Athens, actually.
- Mrs. Warboys: Nice one of the ruins.
- Margaret Meldrew: I think that's the hotel. Oh! Your postcard. Which I gave to Victor to post.
- Mrs. Warboys: Thanks.
- [reads]
- Mrs. Warboys: "Arrived safe and sound. Plane trip fine apart from finding dead snake in the flight bag. Tell you all about that later."
- [last lines]
- Victor Meldrew: Twenty-five years it took to grow that apple tree. I planted it in the spring of 1965. Feeding it, spraying it, mulching the soil, watering it through the droughts, giving it an annual dressing of potash and hydrogen every January. Not one sodding apple.
- Margaret Meldrew: Come on, let's go plant another one.
- Victor Meldrew: [Looking through paper] Your fortune in the stars. Virgo. You will come back today from your holidays. Receive an extremely unpleasant rectal examination from three men in peaked caps. Your luggage will go missing in the other side of the world. Your house will be completely consumed by a hideous fire ball. You will end up tonight freezing to death on a demolition site dressed as the Sisco Kid. Absolutely uncanny. He's hit the nail right on the head and no mistake. I will never call Russell Grant a vacuous lump of whale blubber ever again.