CHOCOLAT -- QUOTES
Serge: We are still married, in the eyes of God.
Josephine: Then He must be blind.
Vianne Rocher: What do you see?
Armande Voizin: Not a damned thing.
Vianne Rocher: Come on, it's a game. What do you see?
Armande Voizin: I see a cranky old woman too tired to play games.
Vianne Rocher: Oh. I've got just the thing for you.
Père Henri: [hearing confession] What else?
Guillaume Blerot: Impure thoughts. The woman who runs the chocolaterie...
Père Henri: Vianne Rocher?
Guillaume Blerot: She suggested I buy chocolate sea shells for the widow
Audel. And, well... I guess that got me to thinking, about the widow Audel.
Père Henri: At her age? At *your* age?
Guillaume Blerot: Yes, and yes.
Luc Clairmont: [at confession] Each time I tell myself it's the
last time, but then I get a whiff of her hot chocolate, or...
Madame Audel: ...Seashells. Chocolate seashells, so small, so plain, so
*innocent*. I thought, oh, just one little taste, it can't do any harm. But it
turned out they were filled with rich, sinful...
Yvette Marceau: ...And it *melts*, God forgive me, it melts ever so
slowly on your tongue, and tortures you with pleasure.
Luc Clairmont: Grandmère, bonjour.
Armande Voizin: I, um... would you like a cup of, uh...
Luc Clairmont: No, no thank you. I'm just here to, uh... do a portrait.
Armande Voizin: Whose?
Vianne Rocher: Yours, actually. Is the light OK where she's sitting?
Storyteller: Even the Comte de Reynaud felt strangely... released. Although it would take another six months for him to work up the courage to ask Caroline out to dinner.
Luc Clairmont: Happy birthday, Grandmère.
Armande Voizin: The invitation said five o'clock.
Luc Clairmont: I should have read it more closely.
Armande Voizin: If you had you would know there were supposed to be no
gifts.
Luc Clairmont: Don't worry so much about supposed to.
Storyteller: But still the clever north wind was not satisfied. It spoke
to Vianne of towns yet to be visited, friends in need yet to be discovered,
battles yet to be fought...
[Vianne throws her mother's ashes to the wind]
Storyteller: ...By someone else, next time.
Comte de Reynaud: A new addition to the liturgy?
Vianne Rocher: Would you care to buy something special for your lady
friend?
Guillaume Blerot: Lady friend?
Vianne Rocher: Yes, the lovely woman your dog was so fond of.
Guillaume Blerot: Oh, no, I mustn't. Madame Audel is in mourning for her
husband.
Vianne Rocher: Oh. I'm sorry. When did he pass away?
Guillaume Blerot: The war. German grenade.
Vianne Rocher: Oh, I see. Well, it's been 15 years since the war, so...
Guillaume Blerot: No, not that war. Monsieur Audel was killed on the 12th
January 1917. It was quite a blow to Mme Audel.
Vianne Rocher: Apparently so.
Vianne Rocher: I have two announcements. Number one, if you enjoyed what
you ate here, you're going to love my chocolate festival on Sunday.
Armande Voizin: Advertise on your own time. What's for dessert?
Vianne Rocher: That brings me to number two. It is my duty to announce,
that there is no dessert here tonight.
[guests sound disappointed]
Vianne Rocher: Because it's on Roux's boat.
[uncomfortable silence]
Armande Voizin: Any complaints, see me.
Roux: [taking time to thoroughly taste the earthworm he has just eaten] Subtle... Zesty? Disgusting.
Armande Voizin: Your cinnamon looks rancid.
Vianne Rocher: It's not cinnamon, it's a special kind of chili pepper.
Armande Voizin: Chili pepper in hot chocolate?
Vianne Rocher: Mm-hm. It'll give you a lift.
Armande Voizin: I've got something for you boy. I've been carrying it
around since your last birthday. It's a book of poetry.
Luc Clairmont: Oh. Thank you.
Armande Voizin: You don't like poetry?
Luc Clairmont: Oh no, no, of course. I do.
Armande Voizin: Neither do I. It's not that kind of poetry.
Roux: How does Anouk feel about it?
Vianne Rocher: What?
Roux: All the moving around.
Vianne Rocher: She's fine. She handles it beautifully, she makes friends
easily, she's such an unusual...
[looks at Roux]
Vianne Rocher: She hates it. She hates it.
Vianne Rocher: And these are for your husband. Unrefined cacao nips from
Guatemala, to awaken the passions.
Yvette Marceau: Psshh. You've obviously never met my husband.
Vianne Rocher: Well, you've obviously never tried these.
Yvette Marceau: Do you have more of those bean thingies, please?
Vianne Rocher: Oh, sure. Um... How many do you want?
Yvette Marceau: How many have you got?
Caroline Clairmont: I suppose it can't be easy, having her gone.
Comte de Reynaud: I can't seem to get used to it, no matter how much
time...
[forced cheerfulness]
Comte de Reynaud: But, I look forward to her return.
Caroline Clairmont: [gently] I don't believe anyone would think
less of you if you were to say she was never coming back.
Armande Voizin: [reading poetry to Luc] It's perfectly wretched,
isn't it?
Luc Clairmont: Perfectly.
Roux: How's the door?
Vianne Rocher: It squeaks.
Roux: Does it?
Comte de Reynaud: Rumor has it you are harbouring Madame Muscat.
Vianne Rocher: You make her sound like a fugitive.
Comte de Reynaud: She *is* a fugitive. From her marriage vows, which have
been sanctified by God.
Vianne Rocher: Joséphine? Come out here a minute. Let his radiance have a
look at you.
[shows the Comte the ugly bruise on Joséphine's head]
Vianne Rocher: Is that sanctified enough for you? It's not the first
time.
Comte de Reynaud: I am so sorry. You should have come to me. Your husband
will be made to repent for this.
Josephine: Tell him to repent on someone else's head.
Roux: Very good... but not my favorite.
Boy #1: I hear she's an atheist.
Boy #2: What's that?
Boy #1: I don't know.
Père Henri: Do I want to speak of the miracle of our Lord's divine transformation? Not really, no. I don't want to talk about his divinity. I'd rather talk about his humanity. I mean, you know, how he lived his life, here on Earth. His *kindness*, his *tolerance*... Listen, here's what I think. I think that we can't go around... measuring our goodness by what we don't do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think... we've got to measure goodness by what we *embrace*, what we create... and who we include.
Roux: I'll come 'round sometime and get that squeak out of your door.
Josephine: [hitting her husband over the head with a cooking pan] Who says I can't use a skillet?
Comte de Reynaud: Let me put this in perspective for you. The first Comte de Reynaud expelled all the radical Huguenots in this village. You and your truffles present a far lesser challenge.
[first lines]
Storyteller: Once upon a time, there was a quiet little village in the
French countryside, whose people believed in Tranquilité - Tranquility. If you
lived in this village, you understood what was expected of you. You knew your
place in the scheme of things. And if you happened to forget, someone would help
remind you. In this village, if you saw something you weren't supposed to see,
you learned to look the other way. If perchance your hopes had been
disappointed, you learned never to ask for more. So through good times and bad,
famine and feast, the villagers held fast to their traditions. Until, one winter
day, a sly wind blew in from the North...
Armande Voizin: What's the décor? Early Mexican brothel?
Josephine: You don't misbehave here. It's just not done, did you know that? If you don't go to confession, if you don't... dig your flowerbeds, or if you don't pretend, if you don't pretend... that you want nothing more in your life than to serve your husband three meals a day, and give him children, and vacuum under his ass, then... then you're... then you're crazy.
Roux: I thought you'd never guess. My favourite - hot chocolate.
Roux: I should probably warn ya you make friends with us you make enemies
with everyone else
Vianne Rocher: Is that a promise?
Roux: It's a guarantee.
Vianne Rocher: [to the Comte de Reynaud] Ah, good morning. Can I interest you in some nipples of Venus?
[Anouk has come home from school upset]
Vianne Rocher: Anouk, just tell me what happened?
Anouk Rocher: Are you Satan's helper?
Vianne Rocher: Well, it... it's not easy, being different.
Anouk Rocher: Why can't we go to church?
Vianne Rocher: Well, you can if you want... but it won't make things
easier.
Anouk Rocher: Why can't you wear black shoes like the other mothers?
Vianne Rocher: Things could be different for you Josephine. Serge doesn't
rule the world.
Josephine: He might as well.
Vianne Rocher: Is that what you believe?
Josephine: I know it.
Vianne Rocher: Oh. Well, then it must be true. My mistake.
Armande Voizin: Sure you didn't put booze in that?
Vianne Rocher: Something better.
Armande Voizin: Perhaps you should give it to my daughter. Melt that
chilly disposition of hers.
