Monsieur Spade
Sundays 9:00 PM on AMCSam Spade Quotes
But now for the million-dollar question. What is so important about this little kid that everyone is willing to murder nuns or kidnap young girls in order to get their hands on him?
Patrice: That man is about as much a painter as I am a milkmaid.
Sam: That’s an image.
Patrice: And what about the garage? I’d love to know why there’s not room inside for their car.
Sam: I think their little sculpture on the roof might have something to do with it.
Sam: Tasty?
Patrice: Tastier than tastes bad. The English do not know how to cook. I mean, sweet Jesus, why did anyone think a dish called Toad in the Hole would be anything but disgusting?
Sam: The wine was good.
Patrice: The wine was French.
A bullet once fired can’t be put back in the gun.
Philippe: You understand what I’m saying?
Sam: Not really, but then I was too busy wondering what day you might finish talking to listen.
Sam: I work for Gabrielle Lavarone.
Philippe: As what? As a Gardner?
Sam: More like her housekeeper.
Philippe: Tell me your name again?
Sam: Samuel Spade.
Philippe: How ridiculous.
Sam: My mother liked it.
Philippe: A whore, no doubt.
Sam: Maybe we’ll leave my mother out of this and focus on you and me.
Sam: That’s five hundred thousand francs.
Philippe: Five hundred thousand. That’s a lot of francs.
Sam: A whole lot.
Philippe: What am I supposed to do with it?
Sam: Buy yourself a new boat and row yourself the fuck out of here.
Philippe: Where would I go?
Sam: I hear Norway needs more assholes.
So I might leave you one day. You might leave me one day. Sounds like every love story I’ve ever heard.
Sam: Well, you kept your cool, Patrice.
Patrice: Please. You may have not raised your voice, but you still poked him as hard as I did.
Sam: I just like to shake the tree to see what falls out.
Patrice: Except, my reckless American friend, shake a Roman tree, and you get a face full of birdshit.
Sam: I tried to quit. I just kept finding cigarettes between my fingers.
Doctor: Try harder.
Sam: I’m going to have those words painted on the ceiling of my bedroom.
Sam: I don't think you and I are having the same conversation.
Philippe: Of course we are.
Sam: Then you're either really dumb, or you're trying to provoke me, which also makes you really dumb, or you're just what everybody says you are.
Philippe: Handsome. Devil may care.
Sam: Whatever you are and whatever you want me to think you are, you're not drunk, you're not bored, and you're not all that interesting, so you can knock off that bug act and listen to what I have to say. I promise to be quick, you can get back to your sulking, and I can get back to the States where people don't butter their fucking fruit.
Marguerite: You may think you understand him, but you make him feel small. You make most men feel small.
Sam: That’s because they don’t know me. Then I’ve never much cared what other thought of me.
Marguerite: Not caring doesn’t make one bulletproof.
Sam: You should needlepoint that one on a pillow.
