Tom Ripley: I always thought it would be better, to be a fake somebody... than a real nobody.
Peter: Sorry, I'm completely lost.
Tom Ripley: I know. I'm lost, too. I'm going to be stuck in the basement, aren't I, that's my, that's my... terrible, and alone, and dark, and I've lied about who I am, and where I am, and now no-one will ever find me.
Peter: What do you mean... lied about who you are?
Tom Ripley: I always thought it'd be better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody.
Peter: What are you talking about? You're not a nobody. That's the last thing you are.
Freddie Miles: In fact the only thing that looks like Dickie is you.
Tom Ripley: Hardly.
Freddie Miles: Have you done something to your hair?
Tom Ripley: Freddie, do you have something you'd like to say?
Freddie Miles: What? I think I'm saying it. Something's going on. He's either converted to Christianity... or to something else.
Tom Ripley: I suggest you ask Dickie that yourself. Otello's is on delle Croce, just off the Corso.
Freddie Miles: Is it on "delle Croce, just off the Corso?" You're a quick study, aren't you? Last time you didn't know your ass from your elbow, now you're giving me directions. That's not fair, you probably do know your ass from your elbow. I'll see you.
Tom Ripley: If I could just go back... if I could rub everything out... starting with myself.
Dickie Greenleaf: Everybody should have one talent, what's yours?
Tom Ripley: Forging signatures, telling lies... impersonating practically anybody.
Dickie Greenleaf: That's three, nobody should have more than one talent.
Tom Ripley: [imitating Dickie's father] "Oh yes, Jazz... it's just insolent noise."
Dickie Greenleaf: I feel like he's here. Horrible. Like the old bastard is here right now!
[pause in disbelief, Dickie moves in to hold Tom's hand]
Dickie Greenleaf: Brilliant. How do you know him ?
Dickie Greenleaf: You know, without the glasses you're not even ugly.
Meredith: [sheepish] I'm sorry, I wouldn't have made a joke if...
Tom Ripley: [cuts her off] Don't be sorry. I've never been happier. I feel like I've been handed a new life.
Tom Ripley: You're the brother I never had. I'm the brother you never had. I would do anything for you, Dickie.
Tom Ripley: First of all I know there's something. That evening when we played chess for instance it was obvious.
Dickie Greenleaf: What evening?
Tom Ripley: Oh sure, no, no, it's too dangerous for you to take on. Oh, no, no, we're brothers. Hey. And then you do this sordid thing with Marge. Fucking her on the boat while we all have to listen. Which was excruciating, by the way! And you follow your cock around and now you're getting married! I'm bewildered, forgive me. You're lying to Marge and then you're getting married to her. You're knocking up Silvana. You're ruining everybody. You wanna play the sax, you wanna play the drums. What is it, Dickie? What do you actually play?
Dickie Greenleaf: Who are you? Huh? Some third class mooch? Who are you? Who are you to say anything to me? I really, really don't want to be on this boat with you right now. I can't move without you moving. Gives me the creeps.
[enraged by his on-the-fly suspicions]
Dickie Greenleaf: You give me the creeps!
Freddie Miles: God, don't you want to fuck every woman you see at least once?
Freddie Miles: Oh God! Don't you want to fuck every woman you see just once?
Dickie Greenleaf: Just once?
Freddie Miles: Just once. Ciao.
Dickie Greenleaf: Tom Ripley. Freddie Miles.
Freddie Miles: I mean, hey, if I'm late think what her husband's saying.
Dickie Greenleaf: You look gorgeous.
Freddie Miles: As always.
Marge Sherwood: Why is it when men play they always play at killing each other?
Dickie Greenleaf: I could fuck this ice box, I love it so much.
Tom Ripley: Well, whatever you do, however terrible, however hurtful, it all makes sense, doesn't it, in your head. You never meet anybody that thinks they're a bad person.
Marge Sherwood: The thing with Dickie... it's like the sun shines on you, and it's glorious. And then he forgets you and it's very, very cold.
Tom Ripley: So I'm learning.
Marge Sherwood: When you have his attention, you feel like you're the only person in the world, that's why everybody loves him so much.
Dickie Greenleaf: Now you'll find out why Ms. Sherwood shows up for breakfast, Tom. It's not love, it's my coffee machine.
Dickie Greenleaf: "See Venice and die," is what they say? Or is it Rome?
Herbert Greenleaf: You know, people always say that you can't choose your parents, but you can't choose your children...
Herbert Greenleaf: What a waste of lives and opportunities.
[abruptly turning his attention to a street musician]
Herbert Greenleaf: I'd pay that fellow a hundred dollars right now to shut up.
Freddie Miles: Tommy. How's the peeping? Tommy, how's the peeping? Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. Tommy.
Dickie Greenleaf: You can be a leech!
[inspector asks a question in Italian]
Peter: [translating] Are you a homosexual?
[under his breath]
Peter: Interesting non sequitur...
Tom Ripley: No!
Peter: [translating] No.
Marge Sherwood: You killed Dickie! I know it was YOU!
Tom Ripley: I suggest you ask Dickie that yourself. Otello's is on delle Croce, just off the Corso.
Freddie Miles: Is it on "delle Croce, just off the Corso"? You're a quick study, aren't you? Last time you didn't know your ass from your elbow, now you're giving me directions. That's not fair, you probably do know your ass from your elbow. I'll see you.
Marge Sherwood: Dick? Dickie? I know you can hear me. What am I doing, chasing you around...? I was going to say I would count to three and if you didn't open the door, but I won't count any more. On you. I won't count on you any more. Whatever it is, whatever you've done or haven't done, you've broken my heart. That's one thing I know you're guilty of, and I don't know why, I don't know why, I just don't know why...
Tom Ripley: And that's the irony, Marge. I loved you. You may was well know it, Marge: I loved you. I don't know... maybe it's grotesque of me to say this now, so just write it on a piece of paper or something and put it in your purse for a rainy day. 'Tom loves me.' 'Tom loves me.'
Marge Sherwood: Why do I think there's never been a Ripley rainy day?
Tom Ripley: What?
Marge Sherwood: [leans closer] I know it was you.
Tom Ripley: Hello Meredith!
Meredith: Oh my God! I hardly even recognized you.
Tom Ripley: Well, you spotted me so you get the reward.
Peter: Good things about Mr. Ripley? Could take some time. Tom is talented. Tom is tender... Tom is beautiful... Tom is a mystery. Tom is not a nobody. Tom has secrets he doesn't want to tell me, and I wish he would. Tom has nightmares. That's not a good thing. Tom has someone to love him. That is a good thing. Tom is crushing me. Tom is crushing me... Tom, you're crushing me!
Peter: Tom is crushing me.
Tom Ripley: Don't you just take the past, and put it in a room in the basement, and lock the door and never go in there? That's what I do.
Peter: God, yes. Though in my case, it's probably a whole building.
Tom Ripley: Don't you just take the past and put it in a room in a basement and lock the door and never go in there? That's what I do, And then you meet someone special and all you want to do is to toss them the key and say; open up, step inside, but you can't, because it's dark, There's demons and if anybody saw how ugly it is. I keep wanted to do that, fling the door open just let light in and clean everything out.
Peter: Officially, there are no Italian homosexuals. It makes Michelangelo and Leonardo very inconvenient.
Dickie Greenleaf: You're so white! Have you ever seen a guy so white, Marge? Grey, actually.
Tom Ripley: It's just an undercoat.
Dickie Greenleaf: Say again?
Tom Ripley: You know a primer.
Dickie Greenleaf: That's funny. Margie likes that 'cause she's so white too.
Marge Sherwood: Yes, I do and you're not funny.
Marge Sherwood: Tom was telling me about his journey over. Made me laugh so hard I almost got a nosebleed.
Dickie Greenleaf: Is that good?
Marge Sherwood: Shut up.
Dickie Greenleaf: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm despicable. But I love you. Do you love me?
Tom Ripley: That ring is superb.
Marge Sherwood: Oh, Tom, I love you! See?
Dickie Greenleaf: I had to promise, capital p, to never take it off. Otherwise I'd give it to you.
Marge Sherwood: Isn't it great? I found it in Naples. I had to bargain for it for about two weeks!
Dickie Greenleaf: Uh, I hope it wasn't cheap, Marge?
Marge Sherwood: Oh, it was!
Tom Ripley: Nothing is more naked than your handwriting. See how nothing's quite touching the line? That's vanity.
Dickie Greenleaf: Well, we certainly know that that's true.
Dickie Greenleaf: We're all only children. What does that mean?
Tom Ripley: It means we've never shared a bath. I'm cold, can I get in?
Dickie Greenleaf: No.
Tom Ripley: I didn't mean with you in it.
Dickie Greenleaf: Okay, get in. I'm like a prune anyway.
Dickie Greenleaf: How could it take an hour to find an ambulance?
Marge Sherwood: She was already dead, darling.
Dickie Greenleaf: I don't know why people say this country is civilised. It isn't. It's fucking primitive!
Marge Sherwood: I don't believe a single word you've said.
Tom Ripley: You're shivering, Marge. Look at you, Marge. Can I hold you? Will you let me hold you?
Tom Ripley: No matter what you do, no matter how awful, no-one ever thinks that they're a bad person.
Freddie Miles: In fact the only thing which looks like Dickie is you.
Peter: Meredith Logue. You were kissing somebody. Looked like Meredith.
Tom Ripley: Hardly kissing. Kissing off, maybe.
Peter: That's not what it looked like...
Marge Sherwood: [about Tom Ripley] I like him.
Dickie Greenleaf: Marge, you like everybody.
Tom Ripley: [Imitating in Marge's voice] I like him.
[Imitating in Dickie's voice]
Tom Ripley: Marge, you like everybody.
Peter: Can you imagine, though, if he did kill Freddie, what that must be like? Just to wake up every morning. I mean, how can you? Just wake up and be a person? Drink your coffee?
Tom Ripley: Well, whatever you do, however terrible, however hurtful, it all makes sense, doesn't it, in your head? You never meet anybody who thinks they're a bad person
Peter: Well maybe, but you're still tormented. You must be. You've killed someone.
Tom Ripley: Don't you just take the past and put it in a room in the basement, and lock the door and never go in there? That's what I do.
Peter: God, Yes. But, of course, in my case, it's probably a whole building.
Tom Ripley: And then you meet someone special and all you want to do is toss them the key. Say "Open up. Step inside." But you can't, because it's dark, and there are demons. And if anybody saw how ugly it is...
Peter: Now that's the music talking.
Tom Ripley: I keep wanting to do that, Fling the door open. Just let the light in, clean everything out. If I could take a giant eraser and rub out everything, starting with myself. The thing is, Peter, if... if... , No.
Peter: No key, huh?
Alvin MacCarron: I don't care for B.S. I don't care to hear it. I don't care to speak it.