Jacques Paganel: Oh... a giant condor. A Sarcoramphus gryphus.
Jacques Paganel: Alpine type glacier, drift minimum.
Lord Glenarvan: We'll never get out of here... alive.
Jacques Paganel: The ice melts and gets out, why can't we?
Lord Glenarvan: First class shooting, Sir! First time, right through the heart.
Chief Thalcave: No. Shoot through heart, bird go limp, drop small boy. But shoot back of head, bird go stiff, wings go up, he circle down, land boy safe.
Jacques Paganel: You mean you purposely induced motor paralysis through damage on the medulla.
Chief Thalcave: Not understand.
Lord Glenarvan: Neither do I.
Lord Glenarvan: Good gracious, the Frenchman! I thought.
Jacques Paganel: Oh, but I give you my word I was put off the ship. Heh! Fortunately, I do not let such things upset me. The note, milord.
Lord Glenarvan: My dear boy, if that's the way you feel about it, let's have a look at the blasted note. Where is it?
John Glenarvan: In the bottle.
Lord Glenarvan: Well, where's the bottle?
John Glenarvan: The Frenchman has it.
Lord Glenarvan: Confounded, where's the Frenchman?
John Glenarvan: You had him thrown off the ship in Glasgow.
Jacques Paganel: Tous les climats sont pareils pour l'amour. Uh, I was just thinking to myself: no matter where you are in the world, it is always different, but it is always the same. In English you would say: All climates are the same for love.
Lord Glenarvan: By Jove, I never saw a rope burn like that.
Jacques Paganel: Gun powder. It's woven in like a fuse.
Jacques Paganel: An earthquake of the first magnitude.
Lord Glenarvan: On my soul, I don't know which is worse: a crazy man who thinks he's smart, or a Frenchman who admits he's stupid.
Jacques Paganel: Take your hands off me, monsieur. Never have I been thrown from any place in my life. Let's not set a precedent. Merci, monsieur, merci.
Lord Glenarvan: Ridiculous! Why should a shark want to swallow a bottle?
Jacques Paganel: Ah, what was in his mind, I - I not know, I tell you only what was in his stomach.
