- Roland Brissot: I gained a certain fame in the cafés of Montparnasse. I cultivated my sloppiness, wore a new dirty shirt each day, carefully mussed my hair and spouted dazzling theories.
- Roland Brissot: What would you do?
- Irène: I wouldn't get married.
- Roland Brissot: You don't believe in marriage?
- Irène: Not for me. May I ask for your hand?
- Roland Brissot: What for?
- Irène: Don't worry, I'll give it back.
- Roland Brissot: A year ago, I was a painter with no talent, but lots of ideas, too many ideas. My mind buzzed with possible paintings. I wanted to capture the fragrance of flowers, the vitamins of vegetables. Naturally, gallery owners politely turned me down. So I ate my vegetables and offered the flowers to girls.
- Irène: It's embarrassing to be naked in front of all these people.
- Roland Brissot: Naked?
- Irène: In the painting.
- Roland Brissot: We leave tonight.
- Irène: What about my surprise? You promised me a party.
- Roland Brissot: I'd have loved to, but it's too late. Get ready.
- Irène: If I get undressed, we'll never leave.
- Roland Brissot: An improvised ode: Long live Irène. Although her father grew beans, she's a queen among queens, she makes my heart sing, her body is my king.
- Roland Brissot: The Gibelin gallery presented the first exposition of works by a promising young painter, Maximus Léo. It was a fabulous opening, attended by many notables: officials, Academy members, poets, ladies of leisure, the indolent society set, and those who came for the open bar.
- Roland Brissot: You're right. You've opened my eyes. I had scruples, but now I've seen the light. Starting tomorrow, I'll do a huge painting of you that will be the talk of the Salon. A nude, obviously.
- Irène: I wasn't born yesterday. The Salon, with a detour to the bedroom. No, no. Too late... buddy. A month ago, it might've worked. I thought, "A painter. Why not? With his talent and my ambition, we'll really go places!"
- Roland Brissot: Exactly.
- Irène: I was wrong.
- Irène: Let me go. You're big enough to hurt me but too little to scare me.
- Roland Brissot: Too little?
- Irène: Yes! Little painter in a little studio, eating little meals and courting little women. When your little life's done, they'll put you in a little black box. Good-bye, little guy!
- Gibelin: Your wife is charming. A lovely sinner. I'd love to get her soul. Give it to me and you're free.
- Roland Brissot: My wife. I lose her more each day. She's afraid of me. Why sell my soul if I can't even keep her body?
- Roland Brissot: Fame? I've learned how the art market works. I'm so famous now, they don't care if I paint with my feet.
- Roland Brissot: A chain. An odd choice of words. I'm part of a chain composed of only a few men. They were happy, they benefited from superhuman powers, but me, the last link, I'm the one who pays! Goddamn it! It's not fair that I pay for all the others!
- House Detective: All men are united, links in a chain. Our actions set mysterious forces in motion. If one link fails, it affects the next and the whole system suffers.
- House Detective: Return to Nice. I'm sure you'll meet an extravagantly disguised lady ready for adventure. Unlucky at the wheel, lucky in love.
- Madame Denis: Good evening, Mr. Perrier. Ready to eat?
- Perrier: Pretty lady, I'm ravenous! Can't you tell?
- Madame Denis: What do you mean?
- Perrier: I'm devouring you with my eyes.
- Madame Denis: I should charge you extra.
- Roland Brissot: Why won't you marry me?
- Irène: Don't ask.
- Roland Brissot: You'd be everything to me: my wife, my mistress, my muse. Anyway, that's my idea.
- Irène: You're full of ideas.
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