"In Sicily, women are more dangerous than shotguns."
— Calo, The Godfather
"Kissing her, I think of the cold laws of cause and effect."
— Max Payne, Max Payne 2
Daphne: It's not like men have never used sex to get what they want.
Frasier: How can we possibly use sex to get what we want? Sex is what we want!
— Frasier, "Sleeping With The Enemy"
Madame Vastra: I love monkeys. They're so fun.
Jenny Flint: Oh, so people are monkeys now, issit?
Vastra: No. People are are apes. Men are monkeys.
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.
— Rick Blaine, Casablanca
All she lacked to be the next Calvin Klein girl was the blankly stupid model look in her eyes. Give her credit: Senna's eyes were alive, focused, intense, glittering. Greedy.
In Italian a beautiful lady; in English a deadly poison. A striking example of the essential identity of the two languages.
"She was bad. She was dangerous. I wouldn't trust her any farther than I could throw her. But she was my kind of woman."
"Maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard, make you want more of her love."
— Nelly Furtado, "Maneater"
Here she comes
You better watch your step
She's gonna break your heart in two, it's true
It's not hard to realize
Just look into her false colored eyes
She'll build you up just to put you down, what a clown
—The Velvet Underground, "Femme Fatale"
It takes a certain type of woman to wear a backless dress with a Beretta 70 strapped to her thigh.
"It is such a place as this...that works a strong man's ruin. He comes here, heart whole and happy, with no better experience of woman than is to be learnt at a flower-show or in a ball room; with no more familiar knowledge of the creature than he has of the far-away satellites of the remoter planets; with a vague notion that she is a whirling teetotum in pink or blue gauze, or a graceful automaton for the display of milliners' manufacture. He comes to some place of this kind, and the universe is suddenly narrowed into about half a dozen acres; the mighty scheme of creation is crushed into a bandbox. The far-away creatures whom he had seen floating about him, beautiful and indistinct, are brought under his very nose; and before he has time to recover his bewilderment, hey, presto! the witchcraft has begun: the magic circle is drawn around him, the spells are at work, the whole formula of sorcery is in full play, and the victim is as powerless to escape as the marble-legged prince in the Eastern story."
—Robert Audley, Lady Audley's Secret