Dad: I'm bustin' my ass for those 50 pences and you're - look, from now on, you stay here and look out for your Nana. Got that? Good.
Grandma: They used to say I could have been a professional dancer if I'd had the trainin'!
Dad: WILL YOU SHUT UP?
Billy: I hate you! You're a bastard!
Mr. Braithwaite: You look like a right wanker to me, son.
Billy: All right, all right, don't lose your blob!
[Billy falls to an opponent at boxing]
George: Jesus Christ, Billy Elliot! You're a disgrace to them gloves, your father, and the traditions of this boxing hall!
Tony: Have you been playing my records you little twat?
Billy: I never played nowt.
Tony: Nob'ed.
Mrs. Wilkinson: So. Do we get the pleasure of your company next week?
Billy: It's just, I feel like a right sissy.
Mrs. Wilkinson: Well don't act like one. 50p please. And if you're not coming again give us your shoes.
Billy: [thinks] No, you're all right.
Mrs. Wilkinson: Right.
Mrs. Wilkinson: Find a place on that bloody wall and focus on that spot. Then whip your head 'round and come back to that spot. Prepare!
Debbie: Dad did it with this woman from work but they don't think I know.
Tony: Dance you little twat!
Tony: You're a ballet dancer, then let's be havin' it!
Gary Poulson: What are you deeing man? This is hand to hand combat not a bloody tea dance!
Mrs. Wilkinson: What have I told you about that arm?
Mrs. Wilkinson: Please yourself, darlin'.
Billy: I don't want to do your stupid fucking audition! You only want me to do it for your own benefit!
George: [to the boxing class] I'm going to let Mrs. Wilkinson use the bottom end of the boxing hall for her ballet lessons. So no hanky-panky, understood?
Michael: Oi, dancing boy!
[Billy runs to Michael]
Dad: We'll miss the bus, Billy!
Tony: Will you stop being an old fucking woman?
