Julie Powell:
"There's all this stuff on the floor!"
Julia Child:
"Avis said she'd be here. Even if we were late."
Simone Beck:
"Well, if she's not here, we can take a taxi. They probably have taxis in Boston."
Simone Beck:
"What is marshmallow fluff?"
Julie Powell:
"I have to murder and dismember a crustacean."
Paul Child:
"Your book is going to change the world."
Julie Powell:
"Last night, our sleep machine, the one we have by our bed to drown out the noise of freight trucks rumbling past our apartment, was speaking to me. And it was saying, lobster killer. Lobster killer, lobster killer, lobster killer."
Paul Child:
"I'm not kidding you; I'm not. Someone is going to publish your book. Someone is going to read your book, and realize what you've done. Because YOUR BOOK is amazing. YOUR BOOK is a work of genius. YOUR BOOK is going to change the world."
Julia Child:
"I'm probably the only American I know in Paris who thinks shopping for food is as *much* fun as buying a dress. Course, you'd think so too if you lived in a country where absolutely *nothing* comes in my size."
Julie Powell:
"353 days to go. A horrible day at work. An old grandma who looked as if she wouldn't harm a fly called me a pencil-pushing capitalist dupe. But then I came home and cooked chicken with cream, mushrooms and port, and it was total bliss."
Eric Powell:
"Look, there's something wrong with her if she doesn't get what you're doing."
Julie Powell:
"There's nothing wrong with her. Nothing. I spent a year with her. She's perfect."
Eric Powell:
"The Julia Child in your head is perfect. The Julia Child that doesn't understand what you're doing is not perfect. The one in your head is the one that matters."
Julia Child:
"If no one's in the kitchen, who's to see?"
Julia Child:
"These damn things are as hot as a stiff cock!"
Julia Child:
"I'm Julia Child. Bon appetit!"
Paul Child:
"You are the butter to my bread, you are the breath to my life."
Paul Child:
"What is it that you REALLY like to do?"
Julia Child:
"Eat!"
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