Françoise, Gogol's Housekeeper: [referring to the wax figure of Yvonne] It went out for a little walk!

Man on Train with Dog: I have here autographs of a hundred famous persons and not a single murderer.

Reagan, the American Reporter: It's the old story. The old family doctor stuck on a girl and tries to plant a murder on her husband to get rid of him. He's been doing something mighty queer with Rollo's body.

Doctor Gogol: Impossible?

Dr. Wong, Gogol's Assistant: Impossible!

Doctor Gogol: Napoleon said that word is not French.

Doctor Gogol: [Referring to wax statue of Yvonne, being loaded into a truck] Where are you taking that figure?

Lavin - Waxworks Proprietor: To the melting pot.

Doctor Gogol: Melting pot?

Lavin - Waxworks Proprietor: There's fifty francs of wax in that thing.

Doctor Gogol: Then no doubt you'd take seventy-five for it, would you?

Lavin - Waxworks Proprietor: What's the idea?

Doctor Gogol: Did you ever hear of Galatea?

Lavin - Waxworks Proprietor: Gala - who? Not wanting a statue of him, are you?

Doctor Gogol: I don't want a statue of Galatea. You see, she was a statue herself. Pygmalion formed her. Out of marble, not wax. And then she came to life in his arms.

Lavin - Waxworks Proprietor: [calling to his assistant] Start the motor, Henry. There's queer people on the streets of Montmartre at this time of night.

Doctor Gogol: [handing him his card] Here, a hundred francs if you deliver the statue to my house.

Lavin - Waxworks Proprietor: [reading card] It's a go, Dr. Go... gol. First thing in the morning.

Yvonne Orlac: [referring to Gogol] He cures defomed children and mutilated soldiers.

Marie, Yvonne's Maid: Soldiers? I wish he'd fix one up for me.

Reagan, the American Reporter: [as Rollo approaches the guillotine] Tough luck kid!

Rollo the Knife Thrower: We all get it in the neck someday.

Reagan, the American Reporter: Hey, Chief, that Dr. Gogol is 100% crazy!

Doctor Gogol: [despairingly] I have conquered science! Why can't I conquer love?

Doctor Gogol: There's blood on your cheek, Galatea.


Doctor Gogol: It seems that wax can bleed.

Rollo the Knife Thrower: [seeing the guillotine] Boy! Ain't that somethin'?

Yvonne Orlac: How many times has he coughed?

Marie, Yvonne's Maid: Two, six, eight, who can remember?

Yvonne Orlac: Maybe he has a cold.

Marie, Yvonne's Maid: If he doesn't cough, he doesn't love you, if he coughs too much, he has a cold.

Yvonne Orlac: Flowers again! A gentleman of the old school, Marie.

Marie, Yvonne's Maid: Old or new, they all try the same things.

Yvonne Orlac: [reading from a card which came with a box of roses nearby] "Tonight I am sad for no longer will I be able to watch you every evening from my lonely shadowed box." And no signature.

Marie, Yvonne's Maid: A man can't take the same box every night for forty-seven nights without the whole theater knowing who he is. Gogol. Nasty foreign sounding name.

Yvonne Orlac: That was very mean of you. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, making fun of a famous man like Dr. Gogol.

Marie, Yvonne's Maid: Well, if he's so famous what's he doing hanging around here all the time?

Yvonne Orlac: Why, Marie, my public! No, he really is a great surgeon. He cures deformed children and mutilated soldiers.

Marie, Yvonne's Maid: Ooh, soldiers! I wish he'd fix one up for me.

Assistant Prefect: Here's the American journalist you sent for.

Reagan, the American Reporter: [to Assistant] Hiya, kid.

[to Rosset]

Reagan, the American Reporter: Hello, chief.

Prefect Rosset: Ah, Monsieur Regan. You're the gentleman who's going to cover this execution?

Reagan, the American Reporter: Yeah, I wish they'd cover it so I can't see it. You know I got a weak stomach.

Prefect Rosset: This Rollo is an American.

Reagan, the American Reporter: Yes, that's why it'd make a good story for our paper.

Prefect Rosset: The fact is we're anxious to avoid undue sensationalism in the American papers.

Reagan, the American Reporter: Oh, I know what you mean. I'll use a soft pencil.

Prefect Rosset: Thank you. And if as you say your nerves are a little weak, I suggest you bring a flask of cognac.

Reagan, the American Reporter: Nah, gin, chief. Gin for executions, beer for birthdays, wine for weddings, and champagne...

[kisses fingertips]

Reagan, the American Reporter: oh ho, champagne!

Prefect Rosset: For what?

Reagan, the American Reporter: You ask that and you're a Frenchman?

Doctor Gogol: To be near you like this is more happiness than I've ever known.

Yvonne Orlac: But Dr. Gogol, quite frankly, I asked you here to come here to talk about Stephen, and you must tell me the truth. Will he ever be able to play again? I mean, as he used to play?

Doctor Gogol: Her thoughts are only for him!

Yvonne Orlac: He's my husband and I love him.

Doctor Gogol: Is there no room in your heart, even pity for a man who has never known the love of a woman but - but who has worshiped you since the day he first walked by that absurd little theater...

Yvonne Orlac: Dr. Gogol, please.

Doctor Gogol: Oh, I can't be silent any longer! You are a woman, you must have known!

Yvonne Orlac: Yes, yes, I knew of your feelings for me. I traded on them. And since you saved Stephen I feel deeper friendship for you than for anyone, but I can give you nothing else in return.

Doctor Gogol: Nothing!

Yvonne Orlac: Nothing. Even if I didn't love him, there's something about you that...

Doctor Gogol: Repulses you.

Yvonne Orlac: Frightens me.

Doctor Gogol: You are cruel! But only to be kind.

Yvonne Orlac: Oh, thank you for trying to understand.

Doctor Gogol: And so I find a thing to do with all her hair... in one long raven string I wind three times her little throat around... and strangle her. No pain feels she. I am quite sure she feels no pain.

Françoise, Gogol's Housekeeper: [Shows negligee to wax statue of Yvonne] And now see what he's gone and bought you, dearie. It cost him a whole month of my wages. But what's that to you? I hired out as a housekeeper. And what am I now? Lady's maid to a waxwork now. And fly-catcher for a plant. Wait a minute now, just wait a jiffy.

[Takes a fly from a bottle, gives it to a carnivorous plant nearby]

Françoise, Gogol's Housekeeper: Now, here's your dinner. You'll be dead soon, dearie. He likes dead things.

Doctor Gogol: [to wax statue of Yvonne] Galatea! And I am no Pygmalion!

[Picks up a book and reads]

Doctor Gogol: "The face of all the world has changed, I think, since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul..."

[Turns back a page]

Doctor Gogol: "Guess now who holds thee? Death, I said. But there the silver answer rang: Not death, but love!"

Doctor Gogol: Each man kills the thing he loves.

Doctor Gogol: Triumph, Galatea! Triumph! He thinks he murdered his father, when it's I who killed him! Galatea! She'll come here now! Flesh and blood, not wax like you. And he, he shall be shut up in the house where they keep the mad. I, Gogol, will do that. He shall be shut up when it's I who am mad! But nobody knows that excepting you and me. It's our little secret. And now I shall play to you for the last time.

Reagan, the American Reporter: [referring to statue of Yvonne, disappointed] Oh, it's wax. And I thought I had a front page murder.

Doctor Gogol: There's blood on your cheek, Galatea. So it seems that wax can bleed. Galatea! I am Pygmalion! You were wax but you came to life in my arms!

Yvonne Orlac: Let me go, Gogol! Please!

Doctor Gogol: You speak! You speak to me! My love has made you live! Galatea, give me your lips!

Yvonne Orlac: Let me go! Let me go!

Doctor Gogol: Why are you afraid of me? I love you! I love you! You came to life for me! Don't you know me, Galatea?

Yvonne Orlac: Yes. Yes, I am Galatea. But let me go now, please! I promise to come back!

Doctor Gogol: You are lying. You wouldn't come back. You hate me. You despise me.

Yvonne Orlac: No, no!

Doctor Gogol: [hearing in his imagination Yvonne's voice saying, "Liar! Hypocrite! You disgust me!"] But I love you!

[Hearing his own voice chanting, "Each man kills the thing he loves. Each man kills the thing he loves. Each man kills the thing he loves."]

Doctor Gogol: Yes! Yes! Each man kills the thing he loves!

Stephen Orlac: I killed my father? No, no. I threw a knife at him yesterday, but...