Alexander: Isn’t there something so much more romantic about getting hitched in a setting devoid of human touch — a place not shaped by anyone’s ideas and ideologies but your own? When you decide to let nature be your cathedral, your love becomes the architect.
Cecily: No! I want our relationship to be strong enough to blossom in reality — a reality shaped by previous architects and heavy expectations and other people’s disdain.
Cecily: You are wonderfully intelligent and kind and generous and wicked.
Arnaud: Thank you. That warms my cold heart.
Cecily: Your heart is not cold. You are simply delusional.
Arnaud: This afternoon, I will meet the girl in Bordeaux for whom my love is unrequited. She just told me that she is pregnant once again. I will binge-drink to celebrate it.
Cecily: In Paris, there is no such concept as “watercooler conversation”. It’s called a communal cigarette break. And it can happen up to thirty times a day. Note to self: spend salary on cigarettes, ergo, increase end of year bonus. Je fume, donc je suis.
Cecily: I threw one shoe off on the steps of the Sacre Cœur and left it there, a crazed contemporary Cinderella. I figured that by the time midnight hit, I’d have a prince and a roasted pumpkin in my oven and a quartet playing Corelli in my living room. I guess I didn’t read Grimm’s tale with enough scrutiny…
Cecily: Just one day, I want to be on the train to Inverness and catch a man’s eye. We’d fall easily into a Lady Macbeth and Macbeth kind of love.
Cecily: Kipling once wrote, “Gardens are not made by singing ‘Oh, how beautiful’, and sitting in the shade”.
Ishmael: I like that. How can I use it?
Cecily: Well, for me it means something about embracing motivated change in all forms. Making active decisions. Never getting complacent. We grow our gardens — alone or with others — and some seasons are made for poppies and others for Japanese maples and others for stones or sand to be tilled gently.
Ishmael: That’s beautiful.
Cecily: It’s beautiful or it’s trite. But sometimes there is beauty in the trite.
Maurice: Does Count Carlo have a passion?
Cecily: He enjoys art.
Raj: And women.
Maurice: And food!
Cecily: He’s Italian.
Cecily: Today I will go to Bordeaux for the very first time!
Arnaud: The woman I am in love with is there with her husband. If you see my heart somewhere around Bordeaux, pretend not to know me.
Cecily: I’ll pick it up from the floor and hide it in my purse on my way back to Paris. Like a fugitive orchid.
Arnaud: I don’t miss it. Tell it I am in Tasmania.
Cecily: I know that when we’re together I try to cherish every moment, but when we’re apart, I count the minutes I didn’t spend touching your face.
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