- Marigold Featherstone: Mr. Rumpole, do you handle divorce?
- Horace Rumpole: Aah!... Only rarely and then with a strong pair of tongs!
- [Last lines]
- Horace Rumpole: [after an earlier tense exchange with Guthrie Featherstone regarding his privileged position] Tough luck old love, you're lumbered with it.
- Erskine Brown: Rumpole, we simply *must* have a reliable head of chambers. Not somebody who's about to be involved in an unsavoury scandal.
- Horace Rumpole: I wonder what a *savoury* scandal would be. Fried on toast, perhaps, with an anchovy and a dash of Worcester sauce?
- Dave Anstey: It's cast-iron, my alibi.
- Horace Rumpole: I'm not altogether sure I like cast-iron alibis. They're the sort that sink quickest - to the bottom of the sea.