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Madeleine: Some things belong on paper, others in life. It's a blessed fool who can't tell the difference.

Madeleine: If I wasn't such a bad woman on the page, I couldn't be such a good woman in life.

Madeleine: How can we know who is good -- and who is evil?
Coulmier: All we can do is guard against our own corruption.

Marquis de Sade: Conversation, like certain portions of the anatomy, always runs more smoothly when lubricated.

Madeleine: He's a writer, not a madman.

Coulmier: It's nothing but an encyclopedia of perversions. One man killed his wife after reading them.
Marquis de Sade: It's a fiction, not a moral treatise.

Royer-Collard: If you're going to martyr yourself Abbe, do it for God, not the chambermaid.

Madeleine: Don't come any closer Abbe, God's watching.

Dr. Royer-Collard: You know how I define idealism, Monsieur Delbenet? Youth's final luxury.

Marquis de Sade: I write what I see, the endless procession to the guillotine. We're all lined up, waiting for the crunch of the blade... the rivers of blood are flowing beneath our feet... I've been to hell young man, you've only read about it.

Coulmier: You're not the anti-Christ. You're only a malcontent who knows how to spell.

Madeleine: You can't be a proper writer without a touch of madness, can you?

Marquis de Sade: I didn't create this world of ours! I merely recorded it!

Dr. Royer-Collard: I won't sully my hands with him.
Marquis de Sade: Nor should you. That's the first rule of politics, isn't it? The man who orders the execution never drops the blade!

Marquis de Sade: You've already stolen my heart... as well as another more prominent organ, south of the Equator.

Marquis de Sade: Ah, you've come to read my trousers.

Madeleine: Your publisher says I'm not to leave without another manuscript.
Marquis de Sade: I've just the story. It's the unhappy tale... of a virginal laundry lass. The darling of the lower wards where they entomb the criminally insane.
Madeleine: Is it awfully violent?
Marquis de Sade: Most assuredly.
Madeleine: Is it terribly erotic?
Marquis de Sade: Fiendishly so! But it comes with a price. A kiss for each page.

Marquis de Sade: Why should I love God? He strung up his only son like a side of veal. I shudder to think what he'd do to me.

Marquis de Sade: In order to know virtue, we must acquaint ourselves with vice. Only then can we know the true measure of a man.

Marquis de Sade: If someone would try to walk on water and drowned, would you blame the Bible?

Abbe du Coulmier: You are not to entertain visitors in your quarters.
Marquis de Sade: I'm entertaining you now, aren't I?
Abbe du Coulmier: Yes, but I'm not a beautiful young prospect ripe for corruption.
Marquis de Sade: Don't be so sure.

Marquis de Sade: Welcome to our humble madhouse, Doctor. I trust you'll find yourself at home.

Marquis de Sade: It's an entire religion based on an oxymoron.

Marquis de Sade: It's only a play.

Coulmier: It's not even a proper novel! It's nothing but an encyclopedia of perversions! Frankly, it even fails as an exercise in craft. The characters are wooden, the diologue is inane. Not to mention the repetition of words like "nipple" and "pikestaff".
Marquis de Sade: There I was taxed; it's true.
Coulmier: And such puny scope. Nothing but the worst in man's nature.
Marquis de Sade: I write of the great, eternal truths that bind together all mankind! The whole world over, we eat, we shit, we fuck, we kill and we die.
Coulmier: But we also fall in love, we build cities, we compose symphonies, and we endure. Why not put that in your books as well.

Abbe du Coulmier: I am not the first man God has asked to shed blood in his name. And I am not of the last.




	Home Jokes Film Quotes Boss Alert News Forum Links		Back to - Film Quotes - Q Quills Madeleine: Some things belong on paper, others in life. It's a blessed fool who can't tell the difference. Madeleine: If I wasn't such a bad woman on the page, I couldn't be such a good woman in life. Madeleine: How can we know who is good -- and who is evil? Coulmier: All we can do is guard against our own corruption. Marquis de Sade: Conversation, like certain portions of the anatomy, always runs more smoothly when lubricated. Madeleine: He's a writer, not a madman. Coulmier: It's nothing but an encyclopedia of perversions. One man killed his wife after reading them. Marquis de Sade: It's a fiction, not a moral treatise. Royer-Collard: If you're going to martyr yourself Abbe, do it for God, not the chambermaid. Madeleine: Don't come any closer Abbe, God's watching. Dr. Royer-Collard: You know how I define idealism, Monsieur Delbenet? Youth's final luxury. Marquis de Sade: I write what I see, the endless procession to the guillotine. We're all lined up, waiting for the crunch of the blade... the rivers of blood are flowing beneath our feet... I've been to hell young man, you've only read about it. Coulmier: You're not the anti-Christ. You're only a malcontent who knows how to spell. Madeleine: You can't be a proper writer without a touch of madness, can you? Marquis de Sade: I didn't create this world of ours! I merely recorded it! Dr. Royer-Collard: I won't sully my hands with him. Marquis de Sade: Nor should you. That's the first rule of politics, isn't it? The man who orders the execution never drops the blade! Marquis de Sade: You've already stolen my heart... as well as another more prominent organ, south of the Equator. Marquis de Sade: Ah, you've come to read my trousers. Marquis de Sade: I write what I see, the endless procession to the guillotine. We're all lined up, waiting for the crunch of the blade... the rivers of blood are flowing beneath our feet... I've been to hell young man, you've only read about it. Madeleine: Your publisher says I'm not to leave without another manuscript. Marquis de Sade: I've just the story. It's the unhappy tale... of a virginal laundry lass. The darling of the lower wards where they entomb the criminally insane. Madeleine: Is it awfully violent? Marquis de Sade: Most assuredly. Madeleine: Is it terribly erotic? Marquis de Sade: Fiendishly so! But it comes with a price. A kiss for each page. Marquis de Sade: Why should I love God? He strung up his only son like a side of veal. I shudder to think what he'd do to me. Marquis de Sade: In order to know virtue, we must acquaint ourselves with vice. Only then can we know the true measure of a man. Marquis de Sade: In order to know virtue, we must acquaint ourselves with vice. Only then can we know the true measure of a man. Marquis de Sade: If someone would try to walk on water and drowned, would you blame the Bible? Abbe du Coulmier: You are not to entertain visitors in your quarters. Marquis de Sade: I'm entertaining you now, aren't I? Abbe du Coulmier: Yes, but I'm not a beautiful young prospect ripe for corruption. Marquis de Sade: Don't be so sure. Marquis de Sade: Welcome to our humble madhouse, Doctor. I trust you'll find yourself at home. Marquis de Sade: It's an entire religion based on an oxymoron. Marquis de Sade: It's only a play. Coulmier: It's not even a proper novel! It's nothing but an encyclopedia of perversions! Frankly, it even fails as an exercise in craft. The characters are wooden, the diologue is inane. Not to mention the repetition of words like "nipple" and "pikestaff". Marquis de Sade: There I was taxed; it's true. Coulmier: And such puny scope. Nothing but the worst in man's nature. Marquis de Sade: I write of the great, eternal truths that bind together all mankind! The whole world over, we eat, we shit, we fuck, we kill and we die. Coulmier: But we also fall in love, we build cities, we compose symphonies, and we endure. Why not put that in your books as well. Abbe du Coulmier: I am not the first man God has asked to shed blood in his name. And I am not of the last.