Owen: She's going ahead with the wedding.
Jack: Which is fine, as long as she doesn't go into labour at the altar. Rhys might forgive her for going down the aisle pregnant, but not giving birth to a razor-toothed monster that eats half his family.
Gwen: We're not postponing the wedding. No way.
Rhys: Forget the money, I want you where they can look after you, right? Getting married today doesn't matter.
Gwen: It matters to me! It's not about the money, Rhys. I want to marry you! Today. Whatever happens. If the skies suddenly fill full of spaceships, or an army of Weevils climb out of the drains on St. Mary's Street, you fool! Do you not understand what I'm saying, Rhys Williams? All I want to do today is marry you. That's all I want to do.
Geraint Cooper: I was with Rhys and his mates all night last night. No one said anything about Gwen being pregnant.
Mary Cooper: Well, Rhys was probably under orders. Gwen knows how to control her man.
Geraint Cooper: Studied under the mistress.
Banana: I'm Banana. I suppose you can tell why.
Tosh: You come up in spots and go soft quickly?
Banana: I'm actually the best man.
Tosh: Evolution is full of surprises.
Banana: So do you fancy a little drink later?
Tosh: I'm sorry. I'm intolerant to vasoactive amines.
Tosh: Bananas make me vomit.
Ianto: I estimated Gwen's size from the Hub security laser scans. As you know, my dad was a master tailor. He could size a man's inside leg measurement by his stride across the shop threshold.
Jack: Ah, the family eye. Remind me to test it some time.
Owen: Besides, with that Nostrovite around, we really don't have too many options.
Ianto: He's got a point.
Jack: What is it with you? Ever since Owen died, all you ever do is agree with him.
Ianto: I was brought up never to speak ill of the dead. Even if they still do most of the talking for themselves.
Jack: What I don't understand is if people are going to make such a big deal about getting married, why come all the way out into the middle of nowhere where no one can find you to do it? That, to me, suggests inner conflict.
Ianto: It's because the happy couple want everything to be perfect.
Owen: An alien egg in your belly and its mother coming to rip you open. Yeah, perfect.
Jack: Get back, you ugly bitch!
Rhys: What the hell do you think you're doing? That's my mother!
Owen: That's the kind of daughter every mother must dream of. Cool as ice, packing an automatic.
Rhys: Hey, are you all right?
Gwen: I'm running around in a wedding dress with what feels like a keg of lager stuck up my skirt. What do you think, Rhys?
Gwen: What will you do while I'm gone?
Jack: Oh, the usual. Pizza, Ianto, save the world a couple of times.
Ianto: That's what I love about Torchwood. By day chasing the scum of the universe. Come midnight, you're the wedding fairy.