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: [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


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.


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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