Dogville

Vera:
I believe smashing them is less a crime than making them. I am going to break two of your figurines first, and if you can demonstrate your knowledge of the Doctrine of Stoicism by holding back your tears, I'll stop.

Grace:
There's a family with kids. Do the kids and make the mother watch. Tell her you'll stop if she can hold back her tears. I *owe* her that.

Grace:
Some things you have to do yourself.

Grace:
Goodbye, Tom.

Ma Ginger:
A police car has just been seen in town and it has just made the turn up Canyon Road! So they'll be here any minute.

Martha:
Should I ring the bell?

Tom:
No, Martha. Grace probably heard.

Grace:
You know she's not capable of anything.

Tom:
You want to eat? You must be hungry.

Grace:
I can't. I don't deserve that bread. I stole that bone. I've never stolen anything before. So now, now I have to punish myself. I was raised to be arrogant. So, I... I had to teach myself these things.

Tom:
Well, it may be for your education. Grace, in this town... In these times... It's very impolite not to eat what's set before you.

Grace:
But I've got nothing to offer them in return.

Tom:
Oh, I think you have plenty to offer Dogville.

Grace:
All I see is a beautiful little town in the midst of magnificent mountains. A place where people have hopes and dreams even under the hardest conditions.

Grace:
I wasn't trying to fool anyone.

Grace:
I thought you were implying that I was trying to exploit the town.

Grace:
You're worse than Tom. How do you know what I dreamed of? You're from the city yourself, aren't you?

Grace:
That's why you want to get rid of me... Because you can't stand that I remind you of what it was you came here to find.

Vera:
Please don't say such nice things about the kids. I cry too easily. Both in sorrow and in joy.

Narrator:
This is the sad tale of the township of Dogville. Dogville was in the Rocky Mountains in the US of A, up here where the road came to its definitive end, near the entrance to the old abandoned silver mine. The residents of Dogville were good honest folks, and they liked their township. And while a sentimental soul from the East Coast had once dubbed their main street Elm Street, though no elm had ever cast its shadow in Dogville, they saw no reason to change anything. Most of the buildings were pretty wretched, more like shacks, frankly. The house in which Tom lived was the best, though, and in good times, might almost have passed for presentable. That afternoon, the radio was playing softly, for in his dotage, Thomas Edison senior had developed a weakness for music of the lighter kind.

Narrator:
Whether Grace left Dogville, or on the contrary Dogville had left her - and the world in general - is a question of a more artful nature that few would benefit from by asking, and even fewer by providing an answer. And nor indeed will it be answered here.

Tom:
Two people only hurt each other if they doubt the love they have for one another.

Grace:
I think the world would be better without Dogville.

Grace:
What? What is it?

Tom:
A man can't really be blamed for being scared, now can he?

Grace:
No.

Tom:
No. I was scared, Grace. I used you and I am sorry. I'm stupid, I am, maybe even arrogant sometimes.

Grace:
You are, Tom.

Tom:
Although using people is not very charming, I think you have to agree that this - specific illustration has surpassed all expectations. It says so much about being human! It's been painful, but I think you'll also have to agree it's been edifying, wouldn't you say?

Grace:
Not now, Tom. Not now.

Grace:
If there is any town this world would be better without this is it.

Alphabetized by author

Prologue:
Tom's father had been a doctor and now received a modest pension so it was no great disaster for Tom to drift about not doing anything in particular. Tom was a writer… at any rate by his own lights. Oh, his output as committed to paper was so far limited to the words "great" and "small", followed by a question mark, but nevertheless meticulously archived in one of his many bureau drawers... In order to postpone the time at which he would have to put pen to paper in earnest, Tom had now come up with a series of meetings on moral rearmament with which he felt obliged to benefit the town.

Prologue:
Jason gave that mutt a bone with meat on it? When did we last see meat? Next time you waste good food I'll take your knife away. Oughta known it was you giv'n meat to eat. Moses was meant to be hungry! To keep watch.

Prologue:
These are wicked times, Tom Edison. Soon there'll be folks by with even less than us.

Prologue:
You think they're fine? I don't think so, I think there is a lot this country has forgotten. I just try and refresh folks memory by way of illustration.