Satine: [to Christian] On opening night I have to sleep with the Duke, and the jealousy will drive you mad.
Maxim de Winter: Please promise me never to wear black satin or pearls... or to be 36 years old.
Mrs. de Winter: I wish I were a woman of 36, dressed in black satin with a string of pearls!
I often think that a slightly exposed shoulder emerging from a long satin nightgown packs more sex than two naked bodies in bed.
I got a pair of red, synthetic satin women's pants through the post the other day with a phone number on. That was quite strange. I haven't tried the phone number. In times of stress I may.
Lifting his head to gently kiss her lips, he whispered, “I trust you.” Then he covered his own eyes with her satin mask.
Satine: The French are glad to die for love. They delight in fighting duels. But I prefer a man who lives... and gives expensive... jewels.
Satine: We're going away, away from you, away from the Duke, away from the Moulin Rouge. Goodbye Harold!
The sun had burned through and the day had gone from dull to dazzling, yet in the west blask-satin thunderheads continued to stack up. It was as if night has burst a blood-vessel in the sky over there.
I have loved corsets since I was small. When I was a child, my grandmother took me to an exhibition, and they had a corset on display. I loved the flesh color, the salmon satin, the lace.
Chet Duncan: Some of us get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss; but every once in a while, you find someone who's iridescent, and once you do, nothing will ever compare.
Zidler: I am the evil maharajah. Satine: Oh Harold, no one could play him like you could. Zidler: No one's going to.
Mrs. de Winter: I wish I were a woman of 36, dressed in black satin with a string of pearls! Maxim de Winter: You wouldn't be here with me if you were.
Some of us get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss...." He turned to me. "But every once in a while, you find someone who's iridescent, and when you do, nothing will ever compare.
I am Calumny Spinks. Between me and the satin blue sky hangs the hempen noose. It has swung there in the faintest of breezes, waiting for me, all my life.
I'm sad now, the way we're talking is infinitely sad: faded music, faded paper flowers, worn satin, an echo of an echo. All gone away, no longer possible.
An intelligent, energetic, educated woman cannot be kept in four walls — even satin-lined, diamond-studded walls — without discovering sooner or later that they are still a prison cell." ( , Harper's Magazine, August 1938)
Christian: How could I know... in those last fatal days... that a force darker than jealousy... and stronger than love; had began to take hold of Satine... Zidler: Where is she?
Norma Desmond: [Norma thinks Joe is a funeral director] I'd like the coffin to be white, and I want it specially lined with satin. White... or pink. Maybe red! Bright flaming red! Let's make it gay!
The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake, the satin-green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze: June had arrived.
I wanted this day, the perfect buttery sun like peach ice cream, the speed, the satin leather of the car seat, the fair. Forbidden fruit, a day like no other.
