Mark Darcy: I don't think you're an idiot at all. I mean, there are elements of the ridiculous about you. Your mother's pretty interesting. And you really are an appallingly bad public speaker. And, um, you tend to let whatever's in your head come out of your mouth without much consideration of the consequences... But the thing is, um, what I'm trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um, in fact, perhaps despite appearances, I like you, very much. Just as you are.
Bridget: Wait a minute... Nice boys don't kiss like that.
Mark Darcy: Oh, yes, they fucking do.
Bridget: You once said you liked me just as I am and I just wanted to say likewise. I mean there are stupid things your mum buys you, tonight's another... Classic. You're haughty, and you always say the wrong thing in every situation and I seriously believe that you should rethink the length of your sideburns. But, you're a nice man and I like you. If you wanted to pop by some time that might be nice... More than nice.
Mark Darcy: Right, crikey.
Bridget: So what do you think of the situation in Chechnya?
Daniel Cleaver: I couldn't give a fuck, Jones.
Mark Darcy: I realize that when I met you at the turkey curry buffet, I was unforgivably rude, and wearing a reindeer jumper.
Bridget: Tell me, is it one in four marriages that end in divorce these days, or one in three?
Mark Darcy: One in three.
Bridget: Thank you, Daniel, that is very good to know. But if staying here means working within 10 yards of you, frankly, I'd rather have a job wiping Saddam Hussein's arse.
Mark Darcy: Natasha, this is Bridget Jones. Bridget, this is Natasha. Bridget works in a publishing house and she used to play around naked in my paddling pool.
Bridget: The only thing worse than smug married couple; lots of smug married couples.
Richard Finch: Why do you wanna work on television?
Bridget: I've got to leave my job because I shagged my boss.
Richard Finch: Fair enough. Start on Monday.
Daniel Cleaver: First, have some more wine, and then tell me the story about practicing French kissing with the art girls at school, because it's a very good story.
Bridget: It wasn't French kissing.
Daniel Cleaver: Don't care, make it up. That's an order, Jones.
Bridget: Daniel, what you just did is actually illegal in several countries.
Daniel Cleaver: That is one of the reasons that I'm so thrilled to be living in Britain today.
Daniel Cleaver: Fuck me, I love Keats.
Bridget: This is an occasion for genuinely tiny knickers.
Answer: The knickers are almost like spanx or the ones that try to hold everything in and appear skinny. Never particularly sexy! I think that's the joke is she wasn't in anything lacy as she didn't think anyone would be seeing them.