- Pere Henri: I'm not sure what the theme of my homily today ought to be. Do I want to speak of the miracle of Our Lord's divine transformation? Not really, no. I don't want to talk about His divinity. I'd rather talk about His humanity. I mean, you know, how He lived His life, here on Earth. His *kindness*, His *tolerance*... Listen, here's what I think. I think that we can't go around... measuring our goodness by what we don't do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think... we've got to measure goodness by what we *embrace*, what we create... and who we include.
- Vianne: And these are for your husband. Unrefined cacao nips from Guatemala, to awaken the passions.
- Yvette Marceau: Psshh. You've obviously never met my husband.
- Vianne: Well, you've obviously never tried these.
- Luc Clairmont: Happy birthday, Grandmama.
- Armande Voizin: The invitation said five o'clock.
- Luc Clairmont: I should have read it more closely.
- Armande Voizin: If you had, you would know there were supposed to be no gifts.
- Luc Clairmont: Don't worry so much about supposed to.
- [first lines]
- Storyteller: [voice over] Once upon a time, there was a quiet little village in the French countryside, whose people believed in Tranquilité - Tranquility.
- Storyteller: [voice over continues as the Sunday morning congregation sings] If you lived in this village, you understood what was expected of you. You knew your place in the scheme of things. And if you happened to forget, someone would help remind you.
- Pere Henri: [as a wife kicks her sleeping husband in the pew] The season of Lent is upon us. This is of course a time of abstinence. Hopefully also it's a time of reflection. Above all let this be for us a time... a time of sincere penitence. It is a time to stand up and be counted...
- Storyteller: [voice over] In this village, if you saw something you weren't supposed to see, you learned to look the other way. If perchance your hopes had been disappointed, you learned never to ask for more. So, through good times and bad, famine and feast, the villagers held fast to their traditions. Until, one winter day, a sly wind blew in from the North...
- Josephine Muscat: [hitting her husband over the head with a cooking pan] Who says I can't use a skillet!
- Boy #1: I hear she's an atheist.
- Boy #2: What's that?
- Boy #1: I don't know.
- Yvette Marceau: Do you have more of those bean thingies, please?
- Vianne: Oh, sure. Um... How many do you want?
- Yvette Marceau: How many have you got?
- Storyteller: [voice over] But still the clever north wind was not satisfied. It spoke to Vianne of towns yet to be visited, friends in need yet to be discovered, battles yet to be fought...
- [Vianne throws her mother's ashes to the wind]
- Storyteller: [voice over] ... by someone else, next time.
- Comte de Reynaud: Rumor has it you are harbouring Madame Muscat. Is that true?
- Vianne: You make her sound like a fugitive.
- Comte de Reynaud: She *is* a fugitive. From her marriage vows, which have been sanctified by God.
- Vianne: Josephine? Come out here a minute. Let His Radiance have a look at you, hm?
- [shows the Comte the ugly bruise on Josephine's forehead]
- Vianne: Is that sanctified enough for you? It's not the first time.
- Comte de Reynaud: I am truly sorry. You should have come to me. Your husband will be made to repent for this.
- Josephine Muscat: Tell him to repent on someone else's head.
- Josephine Muscat: You don't misbehave here. It's just not done, did you know that? If you don't go to confession, if you don't... dig your flowerbeds, or if you don't pretend, if you don't pretend... that you want nothing more in your life than to serve your husband three meals a day, and give him children, and vacuum under his ass, then... then you're... then you're crazy.
- Vianne: What do you see in it?
- Armande Voizin: Not a damned thing.
- Vianne: Come on, it's a game. What do you see?
- Armande Voizin: I see a cranky old woman too tired to play games.
- Vianne: Hmm. I've got just the thing for you.
- Luc Clairmont: [at confession] Each time I tell myself it's the last time, but then I get a whiff of her hot chocolate, or...
- Madame Audel: ...Seashells. Chocolate seashells, so small, so plain, so *innocent*. I thought, oh, just one little taste, it can't do any harm. But it turned out they were filled with rich, sinful...
- Yvette Marceau: ...And it *melts*, God forgive me, it melts ever so slowly on your tongue, and tortures you with pleasure.
- [Père Henri is singing "Hound Dog" while sweeping snow from the courtyard]
- Comte de Reynaud: A new addition to the liturgy?
- Comte de Reynaud: Let me try to put this into perspective for you. The first Comte de Reynaud expelled all the radical Huguenots in this village. You and your truffles present a far lesser challenge.
- Pere Henri: [hearing confession] What else?
- Guillaume Blerot: Impure thoughts. The woman who runs the chocolaterie...
- Pere Henri: Vianne Rocher?
- Guillaume Blerot: She suggested I buy chocolate sea shells for the widow Audel. And, well... I guess that got me to thinking, about the widow Audel.
- Pere Henri: At her age? At *your* age?
- Guillaume Blerot: Yes, and yes.
- [Anouk has come home from school upset]
- Vianne: Anouk, just tell me what happened.
- Anouk: Are you Satan's helper?
- Vianne: Well, it... it's not easy, being different.
- Anouk: Why can't we go to church?
- Vianne: Well, you can if you want... but it won't make things easier.
- Anouk: Why can't you wear black shoes like the other mothers?
- Vianne: Things could be different for you, Josephine. Serge doesn't run the world.
- Josephine Muscat: He might as well.
- Vianne: Is that what you believe?
- Josephine Muscat: I know it.
- Vianne: Oh. Well, then it must be... must be true. My mistake.
- [last lines]
- Storyteller: [voice over] As for Badouff, his leg miraculously healed, and he hopped off in search of new adventures. I didn't miss him.
- Francoise Drou: How is the Comtesse enjoying Italy?
- Comte de Reynaud: She may be extending her trip.
- Francoise Drou: Ah... Very nice.
- Luc Clairmont: Grandmother, bonjour.
- Armande Voizin: I, um... would you like a cup of, uh...
- Luc Clairmont: No, no thank you. I'm just here to, uh... do a portrait.
- Armande Voizin: Whose?
- Vianne: Yours, actually. Is the light okay where she's sitting?
- Storyteller: [voice over] Even the Comte de Reynaud felt strangely... released. Although it would take another six months for him to work up the courage to ask Caroline out to dinner.
- Vianne: Would you care... would you care to buy something special for your lady friend?
- Guillaume Blerot: Lady friend?
- Vianne: Mm-hmm, the lovely woman your dog was so fond of.
- Guillaume Blerot: [smiles] Oh.
- Vianne: Her favorite is chocolate seashells, that's my guess.
- Guillaume Blerot: Oh, no, I mustn't. Madame Audel is in mourning for her husband.
- Vianne: Oh. I'm sorry. When did he pass away?
- Guillaume Blerot: The war. German grenade.
- Vianne: Oh, I see. Well, it's been fifteen years since the war, so surely...
- Guillaume Blerot: No, not that war. Monsieur Audel was killed on January the 12th, 1917. It was quite a blow to Madame Audel.
- Vianne: Apparently so.
- Vianne: I have two announcements. Number one, if you enjoyed what you ate here, you're going to love my chocolate festival on Sunday.
- Armande Voizin: Advertise on your own time. What's for dessert?
- Vianne: That brings me to number two. It is my duty to announce, that there is no dessert here tonight.
- [guests sound disappointed]
- Vianne: Because it's on Roux's boat.
- [uncomfortable silence]
- Armande Voizin: Any complaints, see me.
- Roux: [taking time to thoroughly taste the earthworm he has just eaten] Subtle... Zesty? Disgusting.
- Armande Voizin: Your cinnamon looks rancid.
- Vianne: Well, it's not cinnamon, it's a special kind of chili pepper.
- Armande Voizin: Chili pepper in hot chocolate? Psh.
- Vianne: Mm-hm. It'll give you a lift.
- Armande Voizin: I've got something for you, boy. I've been carrying it around since your last birthday. It's a book of poetry.
- Luc Clairmont: Oh. Thank you.
- Armande Voizin: You don't like poetry?
- Luc Clairmont: Oh no, no, of course. I do.
- Armande Voizin: Neither do I. It's not that kind of poetry.
- Josephine Muscat: If you leave, everything will go back to the way it was.
- Vianne: Everything *is* the way it was.
- Josephine Muscat: Not for me!
- Caroline Clairmont: Fuffi, Fuffi! I'm so sorry but I have to break the appointment.
- Francoise Drou: Something wrong?
- Caroline Clairmont: No, I volunteered to distribute these. I promised the Comte I'd have them out by the end of the day.
- Francoise Drou: Count me in!
- Francoise Drou: Not that I expect any of them to stop by for a hairstyle.
- Francoise Drou: Bonjour monsieur le Comte.
- Comte de Reynaud: I wish all my tenants were as reliable as you, madame Drou.
- Francoise Drou: How is the Comtesse enjoying Italy?
- Comte de Reynaud: She may be extending her trip.
- Francoise Drou: Ah... Very nice...
- Caroline Clairmont: I suppose it can't be easy, having her gone.
- Comte de Reynaud: I can't seem to get used to it, no matter how much time...
- [forced cheerfulness]
- Comte de Reynaud: But, I look forward to her return.
- Caroline Clairmont: [gently] I don't believe anyone would think less of you if you were to say she was never coming back.
- Armande Voizin: Sure you didn't put booze in that?
- Vianne: Something better.
- Armande Voizin: Perhaps you should give it to my daughter. Melt that chilly disposition of hers.
- Vianne: Things could be different for you, Josephine. Serge doesn't rule the world.
- Josephine Muscat: He might as well.
- Vianne: Is that what you believe?
- Josephine Muscat: I know it.
- Vianne: Oh, well, then it... it must be true. My mistake.
- Comte de Reynaud: [forcing Serge into the confessional] He is ready.
- Pere Henri: But confession must be made in the spirit of contrition.
- Comte de Reynaud: [pulling open the curtain] You, have you come in the spirit of contrition?
- Serge Muscat: Contrition... yes contrition,
- Comte de Reynaud: [shutting curtain] He is ready.
- Armande Voizin: I was out all night with him. We swam naked in the Tannes. At dawn, when I returned to my house, in my bed, my mother poked her head in and said, "Wake up sleepyhead." She had no idea I'd been gone.
- Armande Voizin: She won't let me see my grandson. I'm cut off from him.
- Vianne: Why is that? Armande, why is that?
- Armande Voizin: Oh, I'm a bad influence. 'Cause I don't like her treating him like a trained poodle. I swear, that boy doesn't piss without her permission.