Milo North: Has anyone ever told you that you have a marvelous pair of ankles?
Edmund Brundish: [taking book out of delivery from the bookshop] Fahrenheit four five one. What kind of book is this?
Edmund Brundish: ...please, at your earliest convenience, send more books by Ray Bradbury.
Christine: [looking at Richard Hughes's A High Wind in Jamaica, which Florence has ordered her to read] What's it about?

Florence Green: It's about good pirates and evil children.
Florence Green: I mustn't let myself worry while there's life, there's hope.

Edmund Brundish: Oh, God. What a horrifying thought.
Christine: You're so kind, Mrs. Green...

[running away]

Christine: You're so bloody kind.
Narrator: [Voice over] Mr. Brundish lived alone in the oldest house in Hardborough. He didn't particularly like his own company, but after long years of battle, he had reached a lasting truce with himself. He adored books with the same passion with which he detested his fellow men.
Edmund Brundish: In the case of biographies, it's better, I find, if they're about good people, whereas novels are much more interesting if they are about nasty people.
Christine: My elder sister spends all of her time with Charlie Cutts. In fact, on my way over here, I saw their bikes hidden under the fallen leaves over by the crossroads. You won't have any trouble like that with me, though. Those things aren't happening to me yet. And I find boys to be repulsive.
Christine: People always say life has passed by women who have no children.
Florence Green: "Lo-li-ta."

Milo North: Mm-hmm.

Florence Green: Have you read it? Is it any good?

Milo North: It'll make you rich, Florence.

Florence Green: Yes, but is it any good? I only stock good novels. They don't move fast enough, you know?

Milo North: According to Graham Greene, it is a masterpiece.
Christine: That Milo is a ferret. He smiles just like a ferret. I wish he'd just go to hell.

Florence Green: [laughing] Stop it, Christine!

Christine: You're too nice. He's a nasty piece of work. When I'm older, I'm gonna try and be like him. It's much more practical.
Edmund Brundish: Let me tell you what it is I admire about human beings. What I value most is the one virtue they share with gods and animals, and which I will therefore no longer refer to as a virtue. I mean... courage. And you, Mrs. Green, possess that quality in a-bundance. I would like - I would like to help. You make me believe - once more in things - things I - that I thought forgotten.
Florence Green: Dear Mr. Thornton, a good book is the precious distillation of a master's spirit, embalmed and preserved for the purpose of achieving a life beyond life, which is why it is undoubtedly a necessary commodity.
Kattie: Milo didn't do you justice when he described you to me.

Florence Green: Oh, dear. Spare me from Milo's appraisal. I don't think I want to know what he thinks of me.

Kattie: I still don't know what he thinks of *me*. Or if he feels something for me. Or, for that matter, if he feels anything at all. I guess that's part of his thing. Keeping you guessing all the time. You know what they say: with that kind of man, you'll never know whether he's hiding a rich inner world or... absolutely nothing.
Edmund Brundish: I could just put a bullet through her, but...

[is disrupted by Florence laughing]

Edmund Brundish: I'm not sure that would be to your liking.
Christine: I never had time to sit around when I was her assistant.

Milo North: No wonder. You're a child.

Christine: [raises her eyebrows]

Milo North: Or a woman. Neither of them have any idea of how to relax.
Edmund Brundish: Old age is not the same thing as historical interest. Otherwise you and I would be far more interesting than we are.
General Gamart: You seem to think I'm an outrageous person. Is that it?

Edmund Brundish: I can't answer that question "yes" or "no". I suspect that by "outrageous" you mean "unexpectedly offensive". And the truth is that you have been fairly offensive, but also - repulsive, Mrs. Gamart. That is, you have behaved exactly as I expected.
Florence Green: Don't ever say his name again. And forget mine.
Milo North: If you're looking for a new assistant, I understand Christine is available. She is no longer working at the new bookshop.

[chuckles to himself]

Milo North: She tried to sell Lolita to the vicar.
[Last lines]

Narrator: How right she was when she said that no one ever feels alone in a bookshop.
[first lines]

Narrator: She told me once: "When we read a story, we inhabit it; the covers of the books are like a roof and four walls: a house." She, more than anything else in the world, loved the moment when you've finished a book and the story keeps playing like the most vivid dream in your head.

[seagulls cawing]
Florence Green: What else do people think the old house could be used for? Why have they done nothing about it in the past seven years? There were birds nesting in it. Half the tiles were off the roof and it stank of rats. Wouldn't it be better to fill the place with books for people to look at?

Mr. Keble: I read before going to sleep, and usually drift off to the Land of Nod by about the third page.

Florence Green: So you see? Don't you realize how useful books can be?
Florence Green: Do you not read, Mr. Raven?

Mr. Raven: [working on this boat] I don't. Books leave me exhausted.

Florence Green: [polite chuckle]

Mr. Raven: Real life is enough for me.
Edmund Brundish: [in a letter to Florence] I should undoubtedly visit your shop one day if I ever went out. But nowadays I rather make a point of never doing that.
Florence Green: [about a book recommendation] Thank you for suggesting it, I... sometimes feel the need of good advice. feel the need of good advice. You're very kind.

Milo North: You're always making that mistake.
Edmund Brundish: I do not attach as much importance as you do, I dare say, to the notions of right and wrong. I have read Lolita, as you asked me to. It is a good book, and therefore I think you should try and sell it to the people of Hardborough. They won't understand it, but that's all for the best. Understanding makes the mind lazy.
[last lines]

Narrator: For years to come, I will remember how she tried to smile looking at the book I had in my hands. Then, she realized what I had done. She had fulfilled the dream and they'd snatched it away from her. But what she possessed deep down was something no one could ever take away from her: her courage. And it was that courage and her passion for books that she bequeathed to me, along with the Chinese lacquerd tray.

Narrator: [modern bookshop keeper closes up for the day] How right she was when she said that no one ever feels alone in a bookshop.
Florence Green: I learned the trade very thoroughly when I was a girl and I don't believe its changed greatly since then. And more importantly, I know - I love reading.
Florence Green: I'm afraid red really isn't for me. Well, it doesn't look very good on me from behind; but, perhaps if I stand against the wall most of the time when I'm there. Too - red, don't you think?
Milo North: Writers will go anywhere where there is a free drink. I'm not so sure about thinkers.
Milo North: Why are you wearing red? Red's the color that only looks good on house maids after their day off.
Florence Green: You mustn't think I don't want to consider you for the job, its just that you don't really look old enough - or strong enough.

Christine: That happens after first glance. You look old; but, you don't look strong. Its all the same anyway. We're all available.
Edmund Brundish: That harpy. What she wants is an: arts center. Now, I ask you, what the hell does this damn village need with an arts center? And how could art have a center? But, she's got it into her head that it does.
Edmund Brundish: Well, please, come again, when you wish. And good luck with 'Lolita.'
Kattie: Mrs. Gamart was very kind. Well, not.

Milo North: I like kind people - except for Florence.

Florence Green: Don't flatter me.
Florence Green: We met at a bookshop, actually, in London. We were in love from the first moment. We had to organize the - organize and classify the poetry section together. He used to read aloud to me every night. Keats and George Elliot and Thackeray. "Never give a lady a restive horse." We loved that one. We were very happy. Busy doing a million things and nothing. And then the war came.
Edmund Brundish: What do you intend to do?

Florence Green: Do? Is there anything I can do?

Edmund Brundish: Yes! - No. Carry on.

Florence Green: That's what I was going to do.
Florence Green: You'd really do that? Really? Come out of your seclusion for me?
Milo North: Why do you even care, you little sh-rimp.
Milo North: They say? Who say? You say?
Christine: She's got you, hasn't she. You're always in-and-out.
Violet Gamart: I wish I could do something more.

Edmund Brundish: I assume then that you intend to do nothing.

The Bookshop Quotes

Extended Reading

The Bookshop short comments

Ivory 2022-04-03 09:01:12

Ochre dresses, Chinese lacquer dishes, coffee pots in padded jackets, 250 copies of Lolita, beaches in Harburg...so many lovely details. "-It is difficult for them to understand, because understanding makes the mind lazy.-No one has ever done such a noble thing for me." The sympathy of book friends, the persistence of ideals and original intentions, a good movie does not need to talk too much, just needs Talk less well. "In a bookstore, one is never alone"
Brionna 2022-04-07 09:01:06

It's so beautiful... The whole movie is like a portrait, a very slow story, and a degree of relaxation. The handling of every detail is very, very good. The soundtrack is perfect.