St Trinian's 2: The Legend of Fritton's Gold

Roxy:
What goes on tour, stays on tour.

Lucy:
[Chelsea's tapping the brick wall] Chelsea, what are you doing?

Chelsea:
Looking for a secret door. Places like this always have a secret door.

[everyone rolls their eyes]

Lucy:
Chelsea, you truly are...

Chelsea:
[a secret door opens] I truly am a what? Smarter than your average, brainless slapper?

Lucy:
[in disbelief] Yeah, smarter that your average, brainless slapper.

Chelsea:
You better believe it.

Zoe:
There's no reason to be scared of death. 'Cause death is, you know, like life, but all of the crap gets taken out. Like poverty and fascism and Miley Cyrus.

Roxy:
Don't you think this whole idea is a wee bit unfeasible?

Annabelle Fritton:
This is St. Trinian's. We don't know the meaning of the word "unfeasible".

Chelsea:
That's true.

Lucy:
Hah! In your face! In your face! Face of a supermodel. Brain of a super noodle.

Chelsea:
Lucy! Do you really think I look like a supermodel?

Chelsea:
And, therefore, Lucy will always be a virgin.

Lucy:
What? As opposed to a brainless slapper, you mean. Seriously, she'd snog a melon if you drew a mouth on it.

Bella:
That's not fair! It was a grapefruit, actually, and it was years ago.

Chelsea:
Bella! That was a secret.

Rock Star:
Hey Roxy! Promise you'll write me. [Roxy rolls her eyes] Love you babe.

Roxy:
Whatever.

Camilla:
Some women, Annabelle, are born great: Cleopatra, the queen, me. Some become great, like Mother Teresa or Lady Gaga. Others have greatness thrust upon them, like Monica Lewinsky.

Celia:
I think I have, like, an idea.

Annabelle Fritton:
Treasure Hunter, Come for naught, It seems your dreams have fallen short.

Chelsea:
For pirate though I may have been, I ventured for a change of scene.

Chelsea:
Resolving to change my ways, From sailing seas to mounting plays.

Lucy:
Writing many in this room, With Shakespeare as my on-De-ploom.

Lucy:
In you of gold I humbly pray, You'll kindly take my final play.

Annabelle Fritton:
Anound did you find it hard, to credit that I was the bard.

Annabelle Fritton:
The timely truth may now unfold, That all the while I was... a girl.