The Leopard

Tancredi Falconeri:
If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change.

Prince Don Fabrizio Salina:
We were the leopards, the lions, those who take our place will be jackals and sheep, and the whole lot of us - leopards, lions, jackals and sheep - will continue to think ourselves the salt of the earth.

Prince Don Fabrizio Salina:
Sleep, my dear Chevalley, eternal sleep, that is what Sicilians want. And they will always resent anyone who tries to awaken them, even to bring them the most wonderful of gifts. And, between ourselves, I doubt very strongly whether this new Kingdom has very many gifts for us in its luggage. All Sicilian expression, even the most violent, is really a wish for death. Our sensuality, wish for oblivion. Our knifings and shootings, a hankering after extinction. Our laziness, our spiced and drugged sherbets, a desire for voluptuous immobility, that is... for death again.

Don Francisco Ciccio Tumeo:
It seems Donna Bastiana is a kind of animal. She can't read, write, or tell time. She can barely talk. She's even incapable of loving her own daughter. Good for bed, and that's all. But what can you expect? You know whose daughter she is? She's the daughter of one of your peasants from Runci. His name was Peppe Giunta. He was so filthy and savage that everyone called him Peppe Cowshit.

Father Pirrone:
Is Your Excellency here for confession?

Prince Don Fabrizio Salina:
Confession? It's not Saturday.

Father Pirrone:
Listen to me. Come to confession.

Prince Don Fabrizio Salina:
There's no need. You know it all already.

Father Pirrone:
The power of confession lies not only in telling our sins, but in repentance.

Prince Don Fabrizio Salina:
I know. I know! What would you have of me? I'm a vigorous man. I can't find satisfaction with a woman who crosses herself in bed before every embrace, and can only say "Gesummaria" afterwards. I've had seven children with her and I've never seen her navel. Is that right? I ask you. *She's* the sinner!