Chocolat
Chocolat

Père 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.

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Chocolat

Serge: We are still married, in the eyes of God.
Josephine: Then He must be blind.

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Chocolat

Vianne Rocher: 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 Rocher: Well, you've obviously never tried these.

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Chocolat

Roux: Very good... but not my favorite.

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Chocolat

Vianne Rocher: [to the Comte de Reynaud] Ah, good morning. Can I interest you in some nipples of Venus?

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Chocolat

Armande Voizin: [entering the new chocolate shop] What's the décor, early Mexican brothel?

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Chocolat

Roux: I thought you'd never guess. My favourite - hot chocolate.

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Chocolat

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.

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Chocolat

Roux: I'll come 'round sometime and get that squeak out of your door.

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Chocolat

Roux: I should probably warn ya: you make friends with us, you make enemies with everyone else.
Vianne Rocher: Is that a promise?
Roux: It's a guarantee.

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Chocolat

[first lines]
Storyteller: Once upon a time, there was a quiet little village in the French countryside, whose people believed in Tranquilité - Tranquility.
[Sunday morning congregation sings]
Storyteller: 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.
[wife kicks sleeping husband in pew]
Father Henri: 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: 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...

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Chocolat

Yvette Marceau: Do you have more of those bean thingies, please?
Vianne Rocher: Oh, sure. Um... How many do you want?
Yvette Marceau: How many have you got?

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Chocolat

Boy #1: I hear she's an atheist.
Boy #2: What's that?
Boy #1: I don't know.

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Chocolat

Storyteller: 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: ...By someone else, next time.

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Chocolat

Vianne Rocher: What do you see in it?
Armande Voizin: Not a damned thing.
Vianne Rocher: Come on, it's a game. What do you see?
Armande Voizin: I see a cranky old woman too tired to play games.
Vianne Rocher: Hmm. I've got just the thing for you.

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Chocolat

Josephine: [hitting her husband over the head with a cooking pan] Who says I can't use a skillet?

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Chocolat

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.

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Chocolat

Roux: How's the door?
Vianne Rocher: It squeaks.
Roux: Does it?

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Chocolat

Comte de Reynaud: Rumor has it you are harbouring Madame Muscat. Is that true?
Vianne Rocher: 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 Rocher: Joséphine? Come out here a minute. Let His Radiance have a look at

you, hm?
[shows the Comte the ugly bruise on Joséphine's forehead]
Vianne Rocher: 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: Tell him to repent on someone else's head.

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Josephine: 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.