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.

Storyteller

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.

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.

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.

Serge: We are still married, in the eyes of God.
Josephine: Then He must be blind.

This is an A and B conversation, so C yourself out of it

Malakai

Derek: Yeah but six months here gotta be better than six up the juvie.
Malakai: Yeah, they got girls in here.

Chenille: I saw you workin' it out there tonight, girl!
Sara: Oh, yeah... slammin'!
Chenille: Ah-huh! Later!

Derek: Do you get along with your dad? You tight and shit?
Sara: Yeah, we're "tight and shit"; our DNA matches.

That's how easy it is to give to charity around here. Don't put your shit on the floor.

Chenille

Snookie: I'm free Saturday night.
Chenille: Why, is your hand busy?

Sara: Asshole.
Chenille: Who? Because in this crowd you're going to have to be a bit more specific.

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