Marguerite: I said I want four minute eggs. Not four one minute eggs, and where in GOD'S NAME is our bread?
Rodmilla: Marguerite, precious, what do I always say to you about tone?
Jacqueline: A lady of breeding ought never to raise her voice any louder than the... gentle hum of a whispering wind.
Rodmilla: Jacqueline, dear, do not speak unless you can improve the silence.
Marguerite: I was not shrill,mother. I was resonant. A courtier knows the difference.
Rodmilla: I very much doubt your style of resonance would be permitted in the Royal Court.
Marguerite: I'm not going to the Royal Court, am I, Mother? No one is, except some Spanish pig they have the nerve to call a princess.
Rodmilla: Darling, nothing is final until you're dead, and even then, I'm sure God negotiates.
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