Honore Lachaille Quotes in Gigi (1958)

[singing]

Honore Lachaille: Each time I see a little girl / of five or six or seven / I can't resist a joyous urge / to smile and say... / Thank Heaven for little girls / For little girls get bigger every day / Thank Heaven for little girls / They grow up in the most delightful way. / Those little eyes, / so helpless and appealing / when they were flashing / send you crashing through the ceiling / Thank Heaven for little girls / Thank Heaven for them all / No matter where, no matter who / Without them, what would little boys do? / Thank Heaven, thank Heaven / Thank Heaven for little girls...

Gaston Lachaille: Whose luncheon are you taking me to today?

Honore Lachaille: Henri Trouvert.

Gaston Lachaille: Oh no!

Honore Lachaille: We have to go! I'm meeting a heavenly creature there.

Gaston Lachaille: You're still young uncle, aren't you?

Honore Lachaille: Not compared to her!

Honore Lachaille: I must tell you that you upset all my plans for the weekend! I came prepared for battle, and an old wound...

[points to his heart]

Honore Lachaille: ...prevented me from charging.

Madame Alvarez: I don't think she was your type anyway, Honore.

Honore Lachaille: You were watching me?

Madame Alvarez: Force of habit. When a pretty woman came by I always had to watch you.

Gaston Lachaille: I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Uncle. Why didn't you come upstairs?

Honore Lachaille: I was afraid I'd meet my brother and sister-in-law.

Gaston Lachaille: You would have.

Honore Lachaille: I have to tell you... your parents bore me to death.

Gaston Lachaille: Me too.

Honore Lachaille: But I've known them longer, so they've been boring me longer.

Gaston Lachaille: Imagine this if you can! Here is a girl, living in a mouldy apartment: decaying walls, worm-ridden furniture, surrounded by filth...

Honore Lachaille: You're ruining my lunch!

Gaston Lachaille: My heart was touched. I wanted to help her. I offered her everything: house, car, servants, clothes, and me!

Honore Lachaille: And...?

Gaston Lachaille: She turned me down.

Honore Lachaille: Turned you down?

Gaston Lachaille: Turned me down!

Honore Lachaille: It is impossible!

Gaston Lachaille: It is not impossible, it just happened! I was refused, rejected, rebuffed and... repudiated!

Honore Lachaille: This story is about a little girl. It could be about any one of those little girls playing there. But it isn't. It's about one in particular. Her name is Gigi.

Honore Lachaille: I'll tell you about that blue villa, Mamita. I was so much in love with you, I wanted to marry you. Yes, it's true. I was beginning to think of marriage. Imagine, marriage, ME! Oh, no! I was really desperate! I had to do something. And what I did was the soprano!

Madame Alvarez: Thank you, Honore. That was the most charming and endearing excuse for infidelity I've ever heard.

Gaston Lachaille: [having broken off with Liane] I've been weighing the idea of going to the country for a while.

Honore Lachaille: You mean, leave Paris?

Gaston Lachaille: Yes. Why not?

Honore Lachaille: Why not? That's the one thing you mustn't do. Do you want people to think you're despondent? Disturbed? If you leave, they will, you know. No, no. That would be snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. No, no, no. For the next few weeks, you should be out every night. Maxim's, Moulin Rouge, Pre Catalan.

Gaston Lachaille: The Pre Catalan is closed.

Honore Lachaille: Open it! You must be carefree. Devil-may-care. A different girl every night. Keep them guessing who's next. Play the game. Be gay, extravagant, outrageous!

[first lines]

[Honore walks through Paris and greets the viewer]

Honore Lachaille: Good afternoon! As you see, this lovely city all around us is Paris, and this lovely park is of course the Bois de Boulogne. Who am I? Well, allow me to introduce myself: I am Honore Lachaille. Born: Paris. When...

[laughs]

Honore Lachaille: ...not lately. This is 1900, so let's just say not in this century. Circumstances: comfortable. Profession: lover, and collector of beautiful things. Not antiques mind you, younger things.

[an elderly woman passes by]

Honore Lachaille: Yes, definitely younger. Married: what for? Now please don't misunderstand. Like everywhere else, most people in Paris get married, but not all. There are some who will not marry, and some who do not marry. But in Paris, those who will not marry are usually men, and those who do not marry are usually women.

[begins to sing]

Honore Lachaille: Now for example here we find / Exhibit A, the married kind. / These ladies stood their ground and won / and I salute them, every one. / Here are some others to behold / for whom the bells have never tolled. / Oh, what a poor defenseless pair / in those pathetic rags they wear...

Honore Lachaille: Did she send a note?

Gaston Lachaille: Obviously.

Honore Lachaille: Oh, good, good! Did you have to change the arrangements?

Gaston Lachaille: Don't be vulgar.

Honore Lachaille: Ah, well, she's a wonderful girl, Gigi. So young, so fresh, so vulgar. She's not sophisticated like most other woman are, but then what do sophisticated women have to offer? Nothing! They are boring, they have no surprises! But a liaison with someone like Gigi can last for months!

Gaston Lachaille: Good night. Good night!

Honore Lachaille: Don't you marvel at the power / of the mighty Eiffel Tower / knowing there it will remain evermore? / Climbing up to the sky / over ninety stories high!

Gaston Lachaille: How many stories?

Honore Lachaille: Ninety!

Gaston Lachaille: How many yesterday?

Honore Lachaille: Ninety!

Gaston Lachaille: And tomorrow?

Honore Lachaille: Ninety!

Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!

Honore Lachaille: But think of a race / with your horse in seventh place / and he suddenly begins and he catches up and wins with a roar!

Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!

Honore Lachaille: You wore a gown of gold.

Madame Alvarez: I was in blue.

Honore Lachaille: Am I getting old?

Madame Alvarez: Oh, no, not you! How strong you were, how young and gay / A prince of love, in every way!

Honore Lachaille: Ah, yes, I remember it well...

[Gaston humiliates his lover Liane by manhandling HER lover Sandomir. She goes hysterical and attempts suicide]

Honore Lachaille: Congratulations! It's your first suicide!

Honore Lachaille: [about Liane's infidelity] This is not the first time this has happened. It has even happened to me! Isn't that right Manuel?

Manuel: Oh yes. Many, many, many times.

Honore Lachaille: Not THAT many!

Honore Lachaille: Look at all the captivating / fascinating things there are to do!

Gaston Lachaille: Name two.

Honore Lachaille: Look at the pleasures / of the myriad of treasures / we have got!

Gaston Lachaille: Like what?

Honore Lachaille: Look at Paris in the spring / when each solitary thing / is more beautiful than ever before! / You can hear every tree / almost saying "Look at me!"

Gaston Lachaille: What color are the trees?

Honore Lachaille: Green!

Gaston Lachaille: What color were they last year?

Honore Lachaille: Green!

Gaston Lachaille: And next year?

Honore Lachaille: Green!

Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!

Honore Lachaille: The River Seine!

Gaston Lachaille: All it can do is flow.

Honore Lachaille: But think of wine!

Gaston Lachaille: It's red or white.

Honore Lachaille: But think of girls!

Gaston Lachaille: It's either yes or no, and if it's no or if it's yes! / It simply couldn't matter less!

Honore Lachaille: Life is thrilling as can be!

Gaston Lachaille: Simply not my cup of tea...

Honore Lachaille: It's a gay romantic fling!

Gaston Lachaille: If you like that sort of thing.

Honore Lachaille: It's intriguing!

Gaston Lachaille: It's fatiguing!

Honore Lachaille: It's a game!

Gaston Lachaille: It's the same dull world where ever you go, whatever place you are at / The earth is round, but everything on it is flat!

Honore Lachaille: Don't tell me Venice has no lure!

Gaston Lachaille: Just a town without a sewer.

Honore Lachaille: The Leaning Tower I adore!

Gaston Lachaille: Indecision is a bore!

Honore Lachaille: But think of the thrill of a bull fight in Seville / when the bull is uncontrolled / and he challenges the bold matador!

Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!

Honore Lachaille: Think of lunch beneath the trees!

Gaston Lachaille: Stop the carriage, if you please!

Honore Lachaille: You mean you don't want to come?

Gaston Lachaille: The thought of lunch leaves me numb.

Honore Lachaille: But I implore...!

Gaston Lachaille: Oh, no, Uncle! It's a bore!

[singing about how to deal with Liane]

Honore Lachaille: Just imagine her chagrin / when she sees you wander in/ And you find her with that slippery senor / What a moment supreme / when she totters with a scream...!

Gaston Lachaille: What will she do?

Honore Lachaille: Scream!

Gaston Lachaille: What did yours do?

Honore Lachaille: Scream!

Gaston Lachaille: What do they all do?

Honore Lachaille: Scream!

Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!

Honore Lachaille: But think of the bliss / of the pleasure you would miss / When she topples in a heap / and you leave her there to weep on the floor...

Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!

Honore Lachaille: You must catch her if you can!

Manuel: For the dignity of man!

Honore Lachaille: Take advantage of the chance!

Manuel: You owe it, sir, to France!

Honore Lachaille, Manuel: This is war!

Gaston Lachaille: All right! But it's a bore!

Honore Lachaille: We met at nine.

Madame Alvarez: We met at eight.

Honore Lachaille: I was on time.

Madame Alvarez: No, you were late.

Honore Lachaille: Ah, yes, I remember it well...

Honore Lachaille: We dined with friends!

Madame Alvarez: We dined alone.

Honore Lachaille: A tenor sang.

Madame Alvarez: A baritone.

Honore Lachaille: Ah, yes, I remember it well...

Honore Lachaille: That dazzling April moon!

Madame Alvarez: There was none that night, / and the month was June.

Honore Lachaille: That's right, that's right...

Madame Alvarez: It warms my heart to know / you remember still the way you do.

Honore Lachaille: Ah, yes, I remember it well...

Honore Lachaille: How often I've thought of that Friday...

Madame Alvarez: Monday...

Honore Lachaille: ...night, when we had our last rendezvous. / And somehow I've foolishly wondered if you might by some chance be thinking of it too? That carriage ride...

Madame Alvarez: You walked me home.

Honore Lachaille: You lost a glove.

Madame Alvarez: I lost a comb.

Honore Lachaille: Ah, yes, I remember it well...

Honore Lachaille: That brilliant sky.

Madame Alvarez: We had some rain.

Honore Lachaille: Those Russian songs.

Madame Alvarez: From sunny Spain.

Honore Lachaille: Ah, yes, I remember it well...

[singing]

Honore Lachaille: Poor boy! Poor boy! / Downhearted and depressed and in a spin! / Poor boy! Poor boy! / Oh, youth can really do a fellow in! How lovely to sit here in the shade / with none of the woes of man and maid / I'm glad I'm not young anymore... The rivals that don't exist at all / The feeling you're only two feet tall / I'm glad that I'm not young anymore... / No more confusion / No morning-after surprise / No self-delusion / That when you're telling those lies / she isn't wise / And even if love comes through the door / the chance that goes on forevermore / Forevermore is shorter than before / Oh, I'm so glad that I'm not young anymore... / The tiny remark that tortures you / The fear that your friends won't like her too / I'm glad I'm not young anymore... / The longing to end the stale affair / until you find out she doesn't care / I'm glad I'm not young anymore... / No more frustration / No star-crossed lover am I / No aggravation / Just one reluctant reply / "Lady, goodbye!" The Fountain of Youth is dull as paint / Methuselah is my patron saint / I've never been so comfortable before / Oh, I'm so glad that I'm not young anymore...

Honore Lachaille: Youth is the thing, Gaston. Youth. Stay close to the young and a little rubs off.