Gigi

Aunt Alicia:
Bad table manners, my dear Gigi, have broken up more housholds than infidelity.

Gaston:
The only people who make love all the time are liars.

Aunt Alicia:
Liane d'Exelmans has commited suicide... again!

Aunt Alicia:
Love, my dear Gigi, is a thing of beauty like a work of art, and like a work of art it is created by artists. The greater the artist the greater the art. And what makes an artist?

Gigi:
Cigars and jewelry?

Aunt Alicia:
Gigi, you're from another planet.

Gigi:
Is that the scandalous Madame d'Exelmans?

Gaston:
Yes that's she. Tell me Gigi, the way that you express yourself, does you grandmother hear you talk this way?

Gigi:
She doesn't listen to me much.

Aunt Alicia:
Such stupidity is without equal in the whole history of human relations.

Madame Alvarez:
One has to be as rich as you are, Gaston, to be bored at Monte Carlo.

Aunt Alicia:
Marriage is not forbidden to us, but instead of getting married at once, it sometimes happens we get married at last.

Gaston:
I offered her everything: house, car, servants, clothes, and me!

Honore Lachaille:
And?

Gaston:
She turned me down.

Honore Lachaille:
Turned you down?

Gaston:
Turned me down!

Honore Lachaille:
It is impossible!

Gaston:
It is not impossible - it just happened!

Gaston:
I was refused, rejected, rebuffed and... reputed!

Honore Lachaille:
This story is about a little girl. It could be about any one of those little girls playing there. But it isn't. It's about one in particular. Her name is Gigi.

Gaston:
Whose luncheon are you taking me to today?

Honore Lachaille:
Henri Trouvert.

Gaston:
Oh no!

Honore Lachaille:
We have to go! I'm meeting a heavenly creature there.

Gaston:
You're still young uncle, aren't you?

Honore Lachaille:
Not compared to her!

Honore Lachaille:
I must teel you that you upset all my plans for the weekend! I came prepared for battle, and an old wound

Honore Lachaille:
prevented me from charging.

Madame Alvarez:
I don't think she was your type anyway, Honore.

Honore Lachaille:
You were watching me?

Madame Alvarez:
Force of habit. When a pretty woman came by I alwaya had to watch you.

Honore Lachaille:
I'll tell you about that blue villa, Mamita. I was so much in love with you I wanted to marry you. Yes, it's true. I was beginning to think of marriage. Imagine: marriage, me! Oh no, I was really desperate! I had to do somethin, and what I did was the soprano!

Madame Alvarez:
Thank you Honore. That was the most charming and endearing excuse for infidelity I've ever heard.

Honore Lachaille:
Good afternoon. As you see, this lovely city all around us is Paris, and this lovely park is of course the Bois de Boulogne. Who am I? Well, allow me to introduce myself: I am Honore Lachaille. Born: Paris. When:

Honore Lachaille:
not lately. This is 1900, so let's just say not in this century. Circumstances: comfortable. Profession: lover, and collector of beautiful things. Not antiques mind you, younger things.

Honore Lachaille:
Yes, definitely younger. Married: what for? Now please don't misunderstand. Like everywhere else, most people in Paris get married, but not all. There are some who will not marry, and some who do not marry. But in Paris, those who will not marry are usually men, and those who do not marry are usually women.