Paddy Scanlon: Stay away from Knocknasheega, Darby. Ye moil an' meddle wi' that little king, he'll put the come-hither on ye, an' make you his slave forevermore.
Darby O'Gill: Do ye think I'm a babe in arms?
Paddy Scanlon: You are to the likes of 'im! Five thousand years old he is, an' every year of his life he's learned a knew trick.
Darby O'Gill: And *I've* learned a hundred of 'em!

Michael McBride: [singing] Have you ever seen the seagulls a-flyin' o'er the heather, or the crimson sails on Galway Bay the fishermen unfurl? Oh, the Earth is filled with beauty, and it's gathered all together in the form and face and dainty grace of a pretty Irish girl. Oh, she is my dear, my darling one, her eyes so sparklin' full of fun, no other, no other can match the likes of her! She is my dear, my darling one, my smilin' and beguilin' one; I love the ground she walks upon, my darling Irish girl!

Michael McBride: What kind of man are you at all, who doesn't believe in the little people?
Pony Sugrue: Maybe you'd like to find out.
Michael McBride: Indeed I would. You know, someone beat me over the head that night, and I thought it was the little people. But when I spoke to King Brian about it, he said that you should take the consequences.
Pony Sugrue: What consequences?
Michael McBride: Indeed, that's what I asked his Majesty. And you know what he said? He said, "If I were you, I'd poke the blackguard in the face."
[they fight; Pony is knocked down]

Katie O'Gill: Your lordship, why didn't ye tell us ye were comin'? I'd have opened the manor house for you.
Lord Fitzpatrick: Oh I'll not be stoppin' here long enough for that. Where's your father?
Katie O'Gill: Well now, let me see, um... I heard him sayin' somthin' about cuttin' the weeds around the summer house. I think he'll have gone to have the smithy sharpen his scythe. I'll fetch him for ye, your lordship.
Lord Fitzpatrick: Well, that's good of you.
[she runs off to the village]
Lord Fitzpatrick: That Katie's a grand girl. Almost makes up for her father.
Michael McBride: What ails him?
Lord Fitzpatrick: Oh nothin' at all, but he retired about five years ago and didn't tell me about it. He'll be down at the inn now tellin' stories.

King Brian: [original soundtrack] A Phaidrig Óg!
Phadrig Oge: Sea, a thiarna!
King Brian: Faigh an Stradivarius.
Phadrig Oge: Seo chugainn, a thiarna!

Darby O'Gill: [to Cleopatra] Ah, there y'are. What do you think you're doin'? Do you want to break a leg? Whoa... Whoa, there! Whoa... Whoa, I tell ya! Whoa, whoa, whoa, girl! Whoa! Get down! Whoa! Get down!

Darby O'Gill: [to the Banshee] The Banshee! Keep away! Keep away! Keep away from her! Keep off! Keep off, now! Keep off, now!

Darby O'Gill: Get ready... for the grand surprise
[opens sack]
Darby O'Gill: It's no rabbit.
Michael McBride: [looks in sack] Rabbit or hare, what's the odds?
Darby O'Gill: Rabbit or hare? You're looking at Brian of Knocknasheega, king of all the Leprechauns!
Michael McBride: 'Twas a rabbit I saw.

Darby O'Gill: This wasn't like any old Leprechaun that you wouldn't say hello twice to. But who was he, but Brian Conners himself, the King of them all! But I got me eye fixed on 'im. They can't escape, ye know, as long as ye don't look away. Now the night was dark, and the mountain was covered with mist, and the moon was no bigger than the light from a hay-penny candle. But it didn't hide 'im from me, for there he stood, with an angry little gob on him, an' his face as fierce as fire...

[Darby finds Michael unconscious]
Darby O'Gill: [smells alcohol on Michael's shirt, slaps him awake] Is it drunk ye are?
[Michael looks up at him, puzzled; smells his shirt and looks at the bottle in his hand, then rubs the back of his head where he was beaten]
Darby O'Gill: Who did it, lad?
Michael McBride: I don't know, but I can guess.
Darby O'Gill: Where's Katie?
Michael McBride: [worried] She's gone after the horse!
Darby O'Gill: [angrily] Did ye let her go alone, in the dark of the night!
Michael McBride: She was in a terror rage at me! An' sure 'twas your fault for not tellin' her the truth in the first place!
Darby O'Gill: [worried] God forgive me, she'll be chasin' a pooka.