Andrée Heuschling:I cost ten francs.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:I need living, breathing material. What interests me, is skin... the velvety texture of a young girl's skin.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:You're rather modest for an actress.
Andrée Heuschling:Actress doesn't mean whore.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:It's us... old people, the infirm who they should send to the front, in the mud and trenches.
Coco Renoir:Show me your tits.
Andrée Heuschling:Are you nuts?
Coco Renoir:Show me.
Andrée Heuschling:Why should I show you?
Coco Renoir:You show them to the boss.
Andrée Heuschling:That's different. That's for art.
Coco Renoir:What's the war like?
Jean Renoir:It's war...
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:You want to make yourself useful? Go put a necklace on her. Take the emerald one.
Jean Renoir:[approaches a posing Andree]The boss wants you to wear this.
Andrée Heuschling:No introduction first?
Jean Renoir:Forgive me.
Andrée Heuschling:You're Jean? I saw a painting of you.
Jean Renoir:I saw a painting of you, too.
Andrée Heuschling:He always makes me too fat.
Jean Renoir:He makes me look like a girl.
[takes a fruit from a bowl in the studio and bites into it]
Jean Renoir:You just bit into one of my father's models. I understand. Renoir's paintings make me want to eat them too.
Andrée Heuschling:You want to eat me?
Jean Renoir:If you told me what you wanted...
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:You can't explain a painting, you have to feel it. Go see Titian's courtesans at the Louvre. If those don't make you want to caress them, then you've understood nothing at all.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:Where are you going?
Jean Renoir:To the Louvre!
Andrée Heuschling:I paint like a child.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:That's a good thing. My whole life, I tried to paint like a child.
Andrée Heuschling:I'm not spending my life with a plate painter.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:Titian would have worshiped her. I'd give my right arm for her tits.
Pierre Renoir:Andree said you were going to make films?
Jean Renoir:No. Nothing's been decided.
Pierre Renoir:That reassures me. The cinema isn't for us French. It's entertainment for the masses. Our artistic heritage is too old, too heavy.
Jean Renoir:[his father has suffered the torments of arthritis in his hands]Papa. You can't take any more.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:The pain passes, Jean. But beauty remains.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:She won't come anymore, will she? Were you a gentleman with her?
Jean Renoir:Did I need your permission?
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:All women, whether they be a whore or a queen, deserve the same respect.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:[Jean has re-enlisted in WWI]Go get yourself pumped full of lead, imbecile! Or if you prefer, go kill some good German fellow who smokes a pipe. If you think it'll change something.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir:You, too... you can't live without her either.