P: It’s all right sweetheart. We’ll get you out of these terrible clothes.
V: What happened?
H: I swear, I don’t know! One minute the glass was there then it was gone, it was like magic!
V: There’s no such thing as magic.

V: Oh Marge is ill. Ate a funny whelk.
Dud: Dad! Look! Harry’s got a letter!
H: Hey give it back! It’s mine!
V: Yours? Who’d be writing to you?

V: No more mail through this letterbox.

Pet: Have a lovely day at the office, dear.
V: Shoo! Go on!