Children of Paradise

Frederick:
Jealousy belongs to all if a woman belongs to no one.

Director:
Act! Act! You have the wrong place. We are not allowed to act here. We walk on our hands! And you know why? They bully us. If we put on plays, they'd have to close their great, noble theaters! Their public is bored to death by museum pieces, dusty tragedies and declaiming mummies who never move! But the Funambules is full of life, movement! Extravaganzas! Appearances, disappearances, like in real life! And then-boom-the kick in the pants!

Baptiste:
You were right, Garance. Love is simple.

Anselme Debureau:
A kick in the ass, if well delivered, is a sure laugh. It's true. There's an entire order, a science, a style of kicks in the ass.

Anselme Debureau:
Novelty is as old as the hills.

Frederick:
I'm dying of silence, like others die of hunger and thirst.

Édouard, Count de Montray:
You're much too lovely to be truly loved.

Claire "Garance" Reine:
Not only are you rich, but you want to be loved as if you are poor.

Baptiste Deburau:
You were right, Garance. Love is simple.

Frédérick Lemaître:
Jealousy belongs to all if a woman belongs to no one.

Frédérick Lemaître:
I'm dying of silence, like others die of hunger and thirst.

Pierre-François Lacenaire:
I don't love you, but you are the only women for whom I have no contempt.

Pierre-François Lacenaire:
The mere thought of them killing each other, over a woman, because of me, comforts me.

Pierre-François Lacenaire:
His Lawyer says, "Above all, don't talk." The Priest: "Confession is half-remission." He confesses. The Judge: "You Killed and confessed. Perfect. Off with your head." The fellow, disappointed protests: "But confession is half-remission!" The Judge: "True but justice must be done. So we'll just cut off half your head."

Anselme Debureau:
A kick in the ass, if well delivered, is a sure laugh. It's true. There's an entire order, a science, a style of kicks in the ass.

Anselme Debureau:
Novelty is as old as the hills.

Director:
Act! Act! You have the wrong place. We are not allowed to act here. We walk on our hands! And you know why? They bully us. If we put on plays, they'd have to close their great, noble theaters! Their public is bored to death by museum pieces, dusty tragedies and declaiming mummies who never move! But the Funambules is full of life, movement! Extravaganzas! Appearances, disappearances, like in real life! And then-boom-the kick in the pants!

Man in the audience:
Shut up! We can't hear the pantomime!

Comte Édouard de Montray:
You're much too lovely to be truly loved.

Garance:
Truth, but only from the neck up, it frustrated them.