Maria Schneider: Jeanne

Last Tango in Paris

Jeanne

Jeanne: You know, you're old! And you're getting fat.
Paul: Fat, is it? How unkind.
Jeanne: Half of your hair is out and the other half is - almost white.
Paul: You know, in ten years, you're going to be playing soccer with your tits. What do you think of that?

Jeanne: You want to know what - why you don't want to know anything about me? Because you hate woman.
Paul: Oh, really?
Jeanne: What have they ever done to you?
Paul: Well, either they always pretend to know who I am or they pretend I don't know who they are and that's very boring.

Paul: You ran through Africa and Asia and Indonesia, and now I found you - and I love you. I want to know your name.
Jeanne: Jeanne.

Jeanne: Let's drink a toast to our life in the hotel.
Paul: No fuck all that! Hey listen! Let's drink a toast to our life in the country.
Jeanne: You're a nature lover? You didn't tell me that.
Paul: Oh, for christ sake... I'm nature boy. Can't you see me with the cows and the chickenshit all over me? Huh?
Jeanne: Oh, that's right. To the cows!
Paul: Cow.
Jeanne: I will be your cow too.
Paul: I get to milk you twice a day. How about that?

Paul: It's me again.
Jeanne: It's over.
Paul: That's right. It's over and then it begins again.
Jeanne: What begins again? I don't understand anything anymore.
Paul: There's nothing to understand. We left the apartment, and now we begin and love all the rest of it.
Jeanne: The rest of it?
Paul: Yeah, listen. I'm 45. I'm a widower. I own a little hotel. It's kind of a dump, but not completely a flop house. Then I used to live on my luck and I got married, and my wife killed herself.

Jeanne: What am I doing in this apartment with you? Love?
Paul: Well, let's say we're just taking a flying - a flying fuck at a rolling donut.

Jeanne: [in French; subtitled] Olympia is the personification of domestic virtue: faithful, economic and racist.

Paul: I'm awfully sorry to intrude, but I was so... struck with your beauty that I thought perhaps I could offer you a glass of champagne. Is this seat taken?
Jeanne: No.

Paul: What about that? Can I open that? Huh? Wait a minute. Maybe there's jewels in it. Maybe there's gold.
[unbuttoning Jeanne's jeans]
Paul: Are you afraid?
Jeanne: No.
Paul: No? You're always afraid.
[turns Jeanne over on her stomach]
Jeanne: No, but, maybe there is some family secrets inside.
Paul: Family secrets?
[pulls down her jeans]
Paul: I'll tell you about family secrets.
[grabs the butter]
Jeanne: What are you doing?
Paul: I'm gonna tell you about the family. That holy institution - meant to breed virtue in savages.

Tom - un cinéaste, le fiancé de Jeanne: [in French; subtitled] How did you find it?
Jeanne: [in French] By chance.
Tom - un cinéaste, le fiancé de Jeanne: [in French] We'll change everything.
Jeanne: [in French] Everything! We'll turn chance into destiny.

[Paul and Jeanne are talking in bed about Jeanne's past experiences with men]
Paul: You started grabbing his joint?
Jeanne: Your crazy!
Paul: Well, he touched you, didn't he?
Jeanne: I never let him! Never!
Paul: Ugh! Liar, liar, pants on fire, nose as long as a telephone wire.
[slight pause]
Paul: You mean to tell me he didn't touch you? Look at me straight in the face and say, 'He didn't touch me.'
Jeanne: No, he touched me, but the way he did it.
Paul: Aha! The *way* he did it.

Paul: I want you to cut the fingernails on your right hand, these two. That's it. I want you to put your fingers up my ass.
Jeanne: What?
Paul: Put your fingers up my ass, are you deaf? Go on. I'm gonna get a pig. And I'm gonna have the pig fuck you. And I want the pig to vomit in your face. Then I want you to swallow the vomit. Are you gonna do that for me?
Jeanne: Yeah.
Paul: Huh?
Jeanne: Yeah!
Paul: I want the pig to die while you're fucking him. And then you have to go behind it. I want you to smell the dying farts of the pig. Are you gonna do all of that for me?
Jeanne: Yes and more than that! And worse! And worse than before!