Jocelyn: Better a silly girl with a flower than a silly boy with a horse and a stick.
Wat: It's called a lance. Hello?
William: Where will we live? In my hovel? With the pigs inside during the winter so they won't freeze?
Jocelyn: Yes, William. With the pigs.
Jocelyn: I demand poetry, and when I want it, and I want it now.
William: Your breasts... they're beneath your throat.
Adhemar: Why didn't Ulrich finish him?
Jocelyn: He shows mercy.
Adhemar: Then he shows his weakness - that is all mercy is.
William: Your name lady, I still need to hear it.
Jocelyn: Sir hunter, you persist.
William: Or perhaps angels have no names, only beautiful faces.
William: You favour cathedrals.
Jocelyn: I come for confession. And the glass... a riot of color in a dreary, grey world.
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