Marquise de Merteuil: One does not applaud the tenor for clearing his throat.
Vicomte de Valmont: I often wonder how you manage to invent yourself.
Marquise de Merteuil: Well, I had no choice, did I? I'm a woman. Women are obliged to be far more skillful than men. You can ruin our reputation and our life with a few well-chosen words. So, of course, I had to invent, not only myself, but ways of escape no-one has every thought of before. And I've succeeded because I've always known I was born to dominate your sex and avenge my own.
Marquise de Merteuil: You'll find the shame is like the pain, you only feel it once.
Marquise de Merteuil: Like most intellectuals, he's intensely stupid.
Vicomte de Valmont: I ended by falling on my knees and pledging her eternal love. And do you know that, at that time, and for several hours afterwards, I actually meant it.
Madame de Rosemonde: I'm sorry to say this, but, those who are most worthy of love are never made happy by it.
Madame Marie de Tourvel: But, why? Why should that be?
Madame de Rosemonde: Do you still think men love the way we do? No... men enjoy the happiness they feel. We can only enjoy the happiness we give. They are not capable of devoting themselves exclusively to one person. So to hope to be made happy by love is a certain cause of grief.
Marquise de Merteuil: One of the reasons I never re-married, despite a bewildering range of offers, was the determination never again to be ordered about.
Marquise de Merteuil: Tell us we should think of the opera.
Chevalier Danceny: Oh, it's sublime, don't you find?
Marquise de Merteuil: Monsieur Danceny is one of those rare eccentrics who come here to listen to the music.
Vicomte de Valmont: Be careful of the Marquise de Merteuil.
Chevalier Danceny: You must permit me to treat with skepticism anything you have to say about her.
Vicomte de Valmont: Nevertheless, I must tell you in this affair, we are both her creatures, as I believe her letters to me will prove. When you have read them, you may decide to circulate them.
Marquise de Merteuil: When one woman strikes at the heart of another she seldom misses, and the wound is invariably fatal.
Vicomte de Valmont: You see, I have no intention of breaking down her prejudices. I want her to believe in God and virtue and the sanctity of marriage, and still not be able to stop herself. I want the excitement of watching her betray everything that's is most important to her. Surely you understand that. I thought betrayal was your favorite word.
Marquise de Merteuil: No, no..."cruelty." I always think that has a nobler ring to it.
Marquise de Merteuil: When it comes to marriage, one man is as good as the next. And even the least accomodating is less trouble than a mother.
Vicomte de Valmont: Why do you suppose we only feel compelled to chase the ones who run away?
Marquise de Merteuil: Immaturity?
Azolan: It's all very well to be sorry now.
Vicomte de Valmont: Let it be. He had good cause. I don't believe that's something anyone has ever been able to say about me.
Answer: He is probably a "castrato," a male soprano. Exceptionally talented choir boys were castrated before puberty to preserve their high voices. This pracitce lasted from the 16th century until the late 19th. The last castrato, Alessandro Moreschi, died in 1913. There are also some men who can naturally sing in this range, called countertenors.
raywest