Swimming Pool Quotes

Julie: I'm so tired!

Sarah Morton: Not surprising. It's tiring to kill a man.

Sarah Morton: I pity your mother.

Julie: You pity her? Why?

Sarah Morton: Well, I imagine having a daughter who comes home with a different man every night must be difficult for a mother.

Julie: Well, you imagine wrong. You know what? You're just a frustrated Englishwoman who writes about dirty things but never does them. You can shove your uptight morals up your ass!

Julie: [sauntering over to Sarah's lounge chair, bikini bottom without the top, long legs, bare breasts, charming raw European accent] You not too hot?

[the older woman wakes up, startled]

Julie: Sorry I woke you up.

Sarah Morton: [composing herself] No.

[sitting up]

Sarah Morton: I was just dozing.

Julie: [soft laugh, casually sitting down flat next to Sarah's deck chair, not at all mindful of her lack of dress] You must be working too hard. You should take a swim in the pool. The water is cold. It will wake you up.

Sarah Morton: Ah, well, thank you for your advice, but I absolutely loathe swimming pools.

Julie: Yeah, I know what you mean. I prefer the sea too. The ocean,

[smiling fondly]

Julie: the crashing waves, that feeling of danger that you could loose footing and be swept away... Pools are boring, there's no excitement, its just a big bathtub.

Sarah Morton: [coldly summing up] It's more like a cesspool of living bacteria.

Julie: [looking back, clearly more optimistic about life] Oh that? No, it's just a bit of dirt and leaves.

[Sarah nods, unconvinced, set in her ways]

Julie: So, what are you writing? A romance novel?

Sarah Morton: [smirks at the very thought] God, no, I write crime fiction.

Julie: Oh, yeah.

[disapprovingly:]

Julie: That's how he makes his money.

Sarah Morton: [haughtily] And that's how he can afford to buy a beautiful house in France for his daughter to enjoy.

Julie: [slight frown, reminded of her status as Daddy's girl] What about you? Are your books selling well?

Sarah Morton: [grimly] I can't complain.

Julie: [chummily] What is this one about?

Sarah Morton: [as if to quell her enthusiasm by pouring cold water over her] Murders. And the police investigation.

Julie: [giggling] In the Luberon? With rich English stories?

Sarah Morton: [her impatience now all-out] Listen, if you don't mind, I do have work to do.

Julie: Okay! I leave you alone, Miss Marple. I need to make some phone calls anyway.

[walks off, her wedge heels clattering, leaving Sarah to the emptiness of her departure]

Julie: [in French; subtitled] AHH! You scared me!

Sarah Morton: [in French] Who are you? What are you doing in my house?

Julie: [in French] Your house? This is my house! I should be asking you.

[short pause; now speaking English]

Julie: Are you English?

Sarah Morton: [in English] That's correct. I'm Sarah Morton, I'm a writer and my publisher, John Bosload, is letting me have this house.

Julie: Ah, so you're Daddy's latest conquest.

Sarah Morton: You're his daughter?

Julie: So what? He didn't say I was coming?

Sarah Morton: No, he didn't tell me you were coming.

Julie: I'm not surprised. Is he here?

Sarah Morton: No, I'm here on my own and I'm here to work, and not expecting visitors.

Julie: [lights a cigarette] So he's not here.

Sarah Morton: Are you going to be staying long?

Julie: I don't know. I don't have much work these days. So, which bedroom did you take?

Sarah Morton: The one upstairs overlooking the pool.

Julie: Of course. That's the best one. Well, I better unpack.