The Devil: Okay, are there any questions? Yes? No, I'm afraid we don't have any toilets. If had read your bible, you might have seen it was damnation WITHOUT relief.
The Devil: And finally, Christians. Christians? Ah yes, I'm sorry. I'm afraid the Jews were right.
The Devil: Atheists? Over here please. You must be feeling a right bunch of nitwits.
[welcoming people to Hell]
The French, are you here? If you'd just like to come down here with the Germans, I'm sure you'll have plenty to talk about.
I will suffice to say, ‘sod off and if we ever meet again it will be one billion years too soon’
Oh, something’s *always* wrong, Balders… the fact that I’m not a millionaire aristocrat, with the sexual capacity of a rutting rhino, is a constant niggle.
[to Baldrick] Unless I think of something, tomorrow we go to meet our Maker: in my case God, in your case God knows.
Leave me alone, Baldrick. If I wanted to talk to a vegetable, I would have bought one at the market.
I have come up with a plan so cunning you could stick a tail on it and call it a weasel.
A man may fight for many things. His country, his friends, his principles, the glistening ear on the cheek of a golden child. But personally, I'd mud-wrestle my own mother for a ton of cash, an amusing clock and a sack of French porn.
I've no desire to hang around with a bunch of upper-class delinquents, do twenty minutes' work and then spend the rest of the day loafing about in Paris drinking gallons of champagne and having dozens of moist, pink, highly experienced French peasant girls galloping up and down my - hang on...
[To a whore]
Blackadder: Look, if I'd wanted a lecture on the rights of man, I'd have gone to bed with Martin Luther.
We are in the stickiest situation since sticky the stick insect got stuck on a sticky bun.
Quite a nasty piece of work. Not the sort of person you'd want to have dinner with.
You're about as useful as a one-legged man at an arse kicking contest.
As I was leaving this morning, I said to myself 'the last thing you must do is forget your speech.' And sure enough, as I left the house this morning, the last thing I did was to forget my speech.
Your head is as empty as a hermit's address book.
I find his films about as funny as getting an arrow through the neck and discovering there's a gas bill tied to it. [On Charlie Chaplin]
I'm as poor as a church mouse, that's just had an enormous tax bill on the very day his wife ran off with another mouse, taking all the cheese.
Your services might be as useful as a barber’s shop on the steps of a guillotine.