Joel Weinstock: [to the Chemist] Thank you, Howard. Take what's left there with you and good night. Ah-ah... not that one. The little one.
Jimmy 'Popeye' Doyle: [to a random woman before he exits the bar after the drug raid] Get that hair done before Saturday. We're going now. Goodbye!
Marcel: [in French; subtitled] What the fuck are we supposed to do? Shosanna Dreyfus: [in French] It looks like we're supposed to have a Nazi premiere. Marcel: Like I said, what the fuck are we supposed to do?
Marcel: [in French; subtitled] What are we talking about? Shosanna Dreyfus: [in French] Filling the cinema with Nazis and burning it to the ground. Marcel: I'm not talking about that. You're talking about that.
Bill Cox: [about Karl] The son-of-a-bitch's a regular Eli Whitney on a lawn mower and *loves* French fries. 'Son-of-a-bitch can eat four larges and not even belch.
In 1800, in the first interparty contest, the Federalists warned that presidential candidate Thomas Jefferson, because of his sympathy expressed at the outset of the French Revolution, was 'the son of a half-breed Indian squaw' who would put opponent...
Joseph Goebbels: [in German; subtitled] How many seats in your auditorium? Francesca Mondino: [translates into French] Shosanna Dreyfus: [in French; subtitled] Three hundred and fifty. Francesca Mondino: [translates into German] Joseph Goebbels: That...
Daddy had a strict rule about firearms. Anything we killed we had to eat. No amount of barbecue sauce would make a hairy guy like you palatable.
And I had just kissed my ex-girlfriend, who had cried, while my current girlfriend was in jail. So far, it had not been my best day.
Bergé’s yelling had attracted the attention of everyone in the Kibati hall: champagne flutes stopped halfway to heavily painted lips, eyes widened, massive diamonds groaned scornfully in their settings. It was a stationary riot.
The French doctor - the French, they are a very logical race and make good doctors - says: "M'sieu, they have all been on the wrong track - ("Jane Brown's Body")
Thus it had come about that she had read far more fiction, and far more poetry, those two sanctuaries of the lonely, than most of her kind.
My dad gave me a present once,' Nico said. 'It was a zombie.' Reyna stared at him. 'What?' 'His name is Jules-Albert. He's French.' 'A... French zombie?
A moment of reserve. "That was it? The whole story?" "Yes. God, you're right. That was pants." I sidestep another aggressive couscous vendor. "Pants?" "Rubbish. Crap. Shite." . Oh heavens, that's cute.
I don't know. I don't really like old movies. The acting is so, 'Hey buddy, ol' pal. Let's go wear our hats and have a big misunderstanding
I mean, really. Who sends their kid to boarding school? It's so Hogwarts. Only mine doesn't have cute boy wizards or magic candy or flying lessons.
Closed. Plenty of time to see it later, remember?" He leads me into the courtyard, and I take the opportunity to admire his backside. Callipygian. There something better than Notre-Dame.
If you ask me to kiss you, I will,” he says. His fingers stroke the inside of my wrists, and I burst into flames. “Kiss me,” I say. He does.
What should I get from books?” Alcide asked in French. That you are not alone — even along this broken tractor road. You need to know nothing else,” my father answered in French.
Warfare is now an interlocking system of actions—political, economic, psychological, military—that aims at the overthrow of the established authority in a country and its replacement by another regime.
Oh, I'm not English, I cannot talk on behalf of an English person. I'm French. I can say about French. They are quite emotional, though, and they talk about their emotions.
