Nina Pickering (Sinead Keenan): Here's the thing. Dr. Newell is a cock. This has been proven by scientists. Look, we haven't got any beds. Okay? He knows this because he called me and I told him we haven't got any beds. But you see what he's done is, he's gone ahead and discharged her from A&E and sent her here anyway. By now somebody else will be in Mrs. James’ bed, leaving her—as they say—without portfolio.
George: So where do I take her?
Nina: What's your place like?
George: What?
Nina: I don't know, could be the start of something. She has a twinkle.

Nina: What were you doing with Mrs. James? Have you been bothering her?
George: I was just talking to her.
Nina: About what?
George: New Zealand, if you must know.
Nina: Why?
George: Her son lives there.
Nina: I mean why were you talking to her?
George: The other day I took her to physio, she said she wasn't getting any visitors so I said I'd visit her.
Nina: Yeah, well, I suppose that's easier than actual work.
George: It's my day off.
Nina: Oh. Right. Well, ah, that's... that's good.
George: Can I go now?
Nina: Yeah.

Nina: I guess we've cured your, you know, your... premature ejaculation thing. {The door slams shut.} Oh, you are a dead man.

Nina: It's a lot to take in. You know, I mean werewolves, ghosts, vampires. I didn't even believe in homeopathy before.

Nina: You gave it to me, George!
George: What?
Nina: In that room. You pushed me away, and you scratched me. You gave me the curse.
George: Then last night...
Nina: Was very busy. I'm a werewolf. I'm a fucking werewolf.

Nina: You let him out. The dead man. From the morgue.
George: We put him on a container ship to Brazil.
Nina: Of course you have, anything else would be insane.

Annie: Nina!
Nina: Hi.
Annie: Well come here. {they hug}
Nina: How's George? Sorry that was— How're you? Fuck it, tell me later. How is George?
Annie: He's okay.
Nina: What's happened?
Annie: Um. Do you want to sit down? Um... he's met someone, Nina. And he's moved out.
Nina: Ah... What's she like?

Nina: George, you turned me into a werewolf. Taking the moral high ground about anything feels kind of ridiculous.
George: So that's why you're here. You weren't sure I felt guilty enough.

Nina: Death is a personal, private moment and we're gate-crashing. I want that man treated with dignity and kindness.

Nina: And where do you think you're going?
Adam: Oh, I thought I'd try my luck in hematology.
Nina: I know what you are.
Adam: So you know what I'll do if you come any nearer. Goldie.
Nina: What, like the rapper?

George: The whole house, it was furnished to the highest standards.
Nina: Yeah. And so clean.
George: It was immaculate. I mean, Richard and Emma themselves were slightly, what? Eccentric perhaps...
Nina: I'd go for "unreconstructed."
{...}
George: And, well... kinky.
Nina: Filthy. Just assholes.
George: A pair of complete and utter kinked-up, filthy racist assholes.
Nina: We've just left a vulnerable young boy with a pair of, not only instinctive killers, but heinous pervs.

Nina: [I]f we're really going to execute an amnesiac psychiatric patient like we're the governor of shitting Texas or something then we should all have a vote. And I didn't get my vote.

Nina: Hello.
George: I like watching you sleep. I look at you and I think, "She's mine. She's all mine."
Nina: Hm. That's sweet. Creepy and slightly Ted Bundy-esque. But sweet.

Herrick: Fiat justitia ruat caelum, Nina. Let justice be done, though the heavens fall.