Satine: Please tell me you’re not one of Toulouse’s oh so talented, charmingly bohemian, tragically impoverished writers?
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Christian: The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.
Christian: I owe you nothing. And you are nothing to me. Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love.
Christian and Satine: Come what may, I will love you until my dying day.
Satine: I don’t need you anymore! All my life you made believe I was only worth what someone would pay for me! But Christian loves me. He loves me! He loves me, Harold. And that is worth everything! We’re going away from you, away from the Duke, away from the Moulin Rouge!
Toulouse-Lautrec: Christian, you may see me only as a drunken, vice-ridden gnome whose friends are just pimps and girls from the brothels. But I know about art and love, if only because I long for it with every fiber of my being.