Look at those vines,' he said. 'Nature is wearing her prettiest clothes.'
The effect of this unexpectedly poetic observation was slight spoiled when Massot cleared his throat nosily and spat, but he was right;

“Oh, that,' he said. 'Poncet is grooming his ass.”

“I like to have my morning newspaper ironed before I read it. I like to have my …”

“It was a meal that we shall never forget; more accurately, it was several meals…”

“Beh oui. Better sticky than burned.”