Last tango in Paris wisdom

You don’t have a name and I don’t have a name either. Not one name.

I don’t wanna know where you live or where you come from.

You and I are gonna meet here without knowing anything that goes on outside here.

It’s useless to keep on searching. Nobody believes in the fucking God here!

Oh, God, I’ve been called by a million names all my life.

Olympia is a compendium of domestic virtues. Faithful, admiring, and racist.

My childhood was made up of smells.

What’s this for? That’s your happiness and my… my ha-penis.

It’s like playing grown-ups when you’re little.

Well, if you look real close, you’ll see me hiding behind my zipper.

¿Do you really think that an American sitting on the floor in an empty flat eating cheese and drinking water is interesting?

I’m gonna tell you about the family. That holy institution meant to breed virtue in savages. Holy family. Church of good citizens. The children are tortured until they tell their first lie. Where the will is broken by repression. Where freedom… Freedom is assassinated by egotism.

In a respectable household, it’s useful to have a weapon.

For pop youth, pop marriage!

There are more rats in Paris than people.

Cos the best fucking you’re gonna get is right here in this apartment.

You won’t be free of that feeling of being alone until you look death right in the face.

Even if the husband lives fucking years, he’s never going to be able to discover his wife’s real nature.

It’s over, then it begins again. Now we begin again with love and all the rest of it.

I come from a time when a guy like me would drop into a joint like this and pick up a young chick like you… and call her a bimbo.

Go to the circus if you want to see love!

¿How do you like your hero? ¿Over easy or sunny-side up?


2 pensamientos en “Last tango in Paris wisdom

  1. 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.


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