Fabius:
I expected my shooting mishap to be followed by a legal mishap. Well, what do we do now? Shall we have a drink? Make love? Throw things at each other?

Fabius:
I couldn't exactly strangle my motorcycle.

Martha:
You don't think people are going to come to see you smoke a cigarette, do you?

Fabius:
I never once got on that bike, not even one night, for the last two years without thinking it would be the last time.

Martha:
So you wanted to kill me because you were afraid something would happen to you?

Eric:
It's not the motorcycle that's dangerous; it's the fear.

Lucienne de Rinck:
And a little advice: Don't try to kill me off before dessert. The cook makes a remarkable omlette soufflé.