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: Your wife, no, Phibes, but *you* I *will* kill! Dr. Phibes
: But you can't, Doctor: I-AM-AL-REA-DY... DEAD. Your son needs you.
: I will have killed nine times in my life, Dr. Vesalius; how many murders can be attributed to you? Dr. Vesalius
: None, for I did not kill your wife! Dr. Phibes
: No? Dr. Vesalius
: I tried to save her... Dr. Phibes
: With a knife in your hands? Doctor, I have no faith in your profession! I was told, after my crash that I would never speak again. The doctors were, of course, wrong, for as you see and can hear, I have used my knowledge of music and acoustics to re-create my voice! Dr. Vesalius
: You don't need to remind me of your ingenuity, Dr. Phibes... WHERE IS MY SON?
: For God's sake! Dr. Anton Phibes
: Don't cry upon God, Dr. Vesalius. He is on my side! He led me, showed me the way in my quest for vengeance.
: Human error won't stop him. He's had years to hide, to plot this damnable thing. He's compelling himself to follow exactly the classic death pattern of the G'tach. It's the psychic force that holds the man together, this maniacal precision. If we could just throw it off, interrupt the cycle, then he might be stopped by his own inflexible standards.
: I'm going alone. Maybe he'll trade my life for my son's. Inspector Trout
: If you think you can reason with him, then you're as mad as he is!
] Dr. Vesalius
: That still leaves the final curse. Sgt. Schenley
: Darkness. Inspector Trout
: Well he'll be working on it wherever he is.
: Work faster, Doctor! The acid is descending! My wife existed only six minutes on the operating table, and then she was dead. You murdered her... Dr. Vesalius
: No! Dr. Phibes
: *MURDERED HER*... But *he* will have what *she* did not: a second chance!