White Zombie (1932)
Madeline: Driver, who were those men we saw?
Coach Driver: They are not men, madame. They are dead bodies!
Charles Beaumont: I thought that beauty alone would satisfy. But the soul is gone. I can't bear those empty, staring eyes.
Neil Parker: I kissed her as she lay there in the coffin; and her lips were cold.
Dr. Bruner: Your driver believed he saw dead men... walking.
Neil Parker: Not dead? Are you mad? I saw her die. The doctor signed the certificate. I saw them bury her.
Dr. Bruner: Now wait a minute, wait a minute, I'm not mad. But I've lived in these islands for a good many years. And I've seen things with my eyes that made me think I was crazy. There's superstition in Haiti that the natives brought here from Africa. Some can be traced back as far as ancient Egypt. And beyong that yet in the countries that was old when Egypt was young.
Legendre: I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, monsieur. I've been away on a journey, seeking more men for my mill.
Charles Beaumont: Men?
Legendre: They work faithfully; they are not worried about long hours. You... you could make good use of men like mine on your plantation?
Madeline: Driver, what is it?
Coach Driver: It's a funeral, ma'm'selle. They're afraid of the men who steal dead bodies, so they dig the graves in the middle of the road where people pass all the time.
[On pitching woo to a zombie]
Charles Beaumont: Just give me a month. One little month!
Charles Beaumont: You must bring her back!
Legendre: Aren't you a trifle afraid, monsieur? How do you suppose those eyes will regard you when the brain is able to understand?
Charles Beaumont: Better to see hatred in them than that dreadful emptiness.
Neil Parker: Surely you don't think she's alive, in the hands of natives. Oh no! Better dead than that.
Dr. Bruner: Before we get through with this thing we may uncover sins that even the devil would be ashamed of.
Neil Parker: Who are you?
[looks around at the zombies]
Neil Parker: And what are they?
Legendre: For you, my friend, they are the angels of death.
Legendre: Just a pinpoint monsieur. In a flower. Or perhaps in a glass of wine.