American Psycho (2000)
Patrick Bateman: [voice-over] Paul Allen has mistaken me for this dickhead Marcus Halberstram. It seems logical because Marcus also works at P&P and in fact does the same exact thing I do and he also has a penchant for Valentino suits and Oliver Peoples glasses. Marcus and I even go to the same barber, although I have a slightly better haircut.
Patrick Bateman: I have to return some videotapes.
Patrick Bateman: I like to dissect girls. Did you know I'm utterly insane?
Patrick Bateman: Ask me a question.
Club Patron: So, what do you do?
Patrick Bateman: I'm into, uh, well, murders and executions, mostly.
Club Patron: Do you like it?
Patrick Bateman: Well, it depends. Why?
Club Patron: Well, most guys I know who are in Mergers and Acquisitions really don't like it.
Patrick Bateman: There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis; my punishment continues to elude me, and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself. No new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing.
Patrick Bateman: Do you like Huey Lewis and The News?
Paul Allen: They're OK.
Patrick Bateman: Their early work was a little too new wave for my tastes, but when Sports came out in '83, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically. The whole album has a clear, crisp sound, and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really gives the songs a big boost. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has a far more bitter, cynical sense of humor.
Paul Allen: Hey Halberstram.
Patrick Bateman: Yes, Allen?
Paul Allen: Why are there copies of the style section all over the place, d-do you have a dog? A little chow or something?
Patrick Bateman: No, Allen.
Paul Allen: Is that a rain coat?
Patrick Bateman: Yes it is! In '87, Huey released this, Fore, their most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is "Hip to be Square", a song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should, because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity, and the importance of trends, it's also a personal statement about the band itself.
[raises axe above head]
Patrick Bateman: Hey Paul!
[he bashes Allen in the head with the axe, and blood splatters over him]
Patrick Bateman: TRY GETTING A RESERVATION AT DORSIA NOW, YOU FUCKING STUPID BASTARD! YOU, FUCKING BASTARD!
Patrick Bateman: There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there.
Patrick Bateman: Howard, it's Bateman, Patrick Bateman. You're my lawyer so I think you should know: I've killed a lot of people. Some girls in the apartment uptown uh, some homeless people maybe 5 or 10 um an NYU girl I met in Central Park. I left her in a parking lot behind some donut shop. I killed Bethany, my old girlfriend, with a nail gun, and some man uh some old faggot with a dog last week. I killed another girl with a chainsaw, I had to, she almost got away and uh someone else there I can't remember maybe a model, but she's dead too. And Paul Allen. I killed Paul Allen with an axe in the face, his body is dissolving in a bathtub in Hell's Kitchen. I don't want to leave anything out here. I guess I've killed maybe 20 people, maybe 40. I have tapes of a lot of it, uh some of the girls have seen the tapes. I even, um... I ate some of their brains, and I tried to cook a little. Tonight I, uh, I just had to kill a LOT of people. And I'm not sure I'm gonna get away with it this time. I guess I'll uh, I mean, ah, I guess I'm a pretty uh, I mean I guess I'm a pretty sick guy. So, if you get back tomorrow, I may show up at Harry's Bar, so you know, keep your eyes open.
Patrick Bateman: I'm fucking serious. It's fucking over, us, this is no joke. I don't think we should see each other any more.
Evelyn Williams: But your friends are my friends and my friends are your friends. I really don't think it would work. You have a little something...
Patrick Bateman: I know that your friends are my friends and, uh... I've thought about that. You can have 'em.
Patrick Bateman: You're a fucking ugly bitch. I want to stab you to death, and then play around with your blood.
Patrick Bateman: I live in the American Gardens Building on W. 81st Street on the 11th floor. My name is Patrick Bateman. I'm 27 years old. I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I'll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now. After I remove the ice pack I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower I use a water activated gel cleanser, then a honey almond body scrub, and on the face an exfoliating gel scrub. Then I apply an herb-mint facial mask which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an after shave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion.
ATM Machine: Feed me a stray cat.
Patrick Bateman: I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
Patrick Bateman: [after being kicked in the face by Christie the call girl] Not the face! You bitch! Not the fucking face, you piece of bitch trash!
Patrick Bateman: Do you like Phil Collins? I've been a big Genesis fan ever since the release of their 1980 album, Duke. Before that, I really didn't understand any of their work. Too artsy, too intellectual. It was on Duke where Phil Collins' presence became more apparent. I think Invisible Touch was the group's undisputed masterpiece. It's an epic meditation on intangibility. At the same time, it deepens and enriches the meaning of the preceding three albums. Christy, take off your robe. Listen to the brilliant ensemble playing of Banks, Collins and Rutherford. You can practically hear every nuance of every instrument. Sabrina, remove your dress. In terms of lyrical craftsmanship, the sheer songwriting, this album hits a new peak of professionalism. Sabrina, why don't you, uh, dance a little. Take the lyrics to Land of Confusion. In this song, Phil Collins addresses the problems of abusive political authority. In Too Deep is the most moving pop song of the 1980s, about monogamy and commitment. The song is extremely uplifting. Their lyrics are as positive and affirmative as anything I've heard in rock. Christy, get down on your knees so Sabrina can see your asshole. Phil Collins' solo career seems to be more commercial and therefore more satisfying, in a narrower way. Especially songs like In the Air Tonight and Against All Odds. Sabrina, don't just stare at it, eat it. But I also think Phil Collins works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist. This is Sussudio, a great, great song, a personal favorite.
Patrick Bateman: Hey, I'm a child of divorce, gimme a break!
Waiter: Would you like to hear today's specials?
Patrick Bateman: Not if you want to keep your spleen.
Patrick Bateman: [voice-over] There is a moment of sheer panic when I realize that Paul's apartment overlooks the park... and is obviously more expensive than mine.
Patrick Bateman: He was into that whole Yale thing.
Donald Kimball: Yale thing?
Patrick Bateman: Yeah, Yale thing.
Donald Kimball: What whole Yale thing?
Patrick Bateman: Well, for one thing, I think he was probably a closet homosexual who did a lot of cocaine. That whole Yale thing.
Patrick Bateman: Come on, Bryce. There are a lot more important problems than Sri Lanka to worry about.
Timothy Bryce: Like what?
Patrick Bateman: Well, we have to end apartheid for one. And slow down the nuclear arms race, stop terrorism and world hunger. We have to provide food and shelter for the homeless, and oppose racial discrimination and promote civil rights, while also promoting equal rights for women. We have to encourage a return to traditional moral values. Most importantly, we have to promote general social concern and less materialism in young people.
Luis Carruthers: [feigning tears] Patrick. How thought-provoking.
Patrick Bateman: I think, um, Evelyn that, uh, we've lost touch.
Evelyn Williams: Why? What's wrong?
Patrick Bateman: My need to engage in homicidal behaviour on a massive scale cannot be corrected but, uh, I have no other way to fulfill my needs.
Patrick Bateman: New card. What do you think?
Craig McDermott: Whoa-ho. Very nice. Look at that.
Patrick Bateman: Picked them up from the printer's yesterday.
David Van Patten: Good coloring.
Patrick Bateman: That's bone. And the lettering is something called Silian Rail.
David Van Patten: It's very cool, Bateman, but that's nothing. Look at this.
Timothy Bryce: That is really nice.
David Van Patten: Eggshell with Romalian type. What do you think?
Patrick Bateman: Nice.
Timothy Bryce: Jesus. That is really super. How'd a nitwit like you get so tasteful?
Patrick Bateman: [Thinking] I can't believe that Bryce prefers Van Patten's card to mine.
Timothy Bryce: But wait. You ain't seen nothin' yet. Raised lettering, pale nimbus. White.
Patrick Bateman: Impressive. Very nice.
David Van Patten: Hmm.
Patrick Bateman: Let's see Paul Allen's card.
Patrick Bateman: [Thinking] Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh, my God. It even has a watermark.
Luis Carruthers: Is something wrong, Patrick? You're sweating.
Patrick Bateman: Do you know what Ed Gein said about women?
David Van Patten: Ed Gein? The maitre 'd at Canal Bar?
Patrick Bateman: No, serial killer, Wisconsin, the '50s.
Craig McDermott: So what did he say?
Patrick Bateman: "When I see a pretty girl walking down the street, I think two things. One part wants me to take her out, talk to her, be real nice and sweet and treat her right."
David Van Patten: And what did the other part think?
Patrick Bateman: "What her head would look like on a stick... "
Patrick Bateman: Don't you want to know what I do?
Christie: No. No, not really.
Patrick Bateman: Well, I work on Wall Street... for Pierce & Pierce. Have you heard of it?
[the girls shake their heads. Patrick's jaw tightens]
Christie: You have a really nice place here, Paul. How much did you pay for it?
Patrick Bateman: Well, actually, that's none of your business, Christie. But I can assure you, it certainly wasn't cheap.
[Looking at Paul Allen's business card]
Patrick Bateman: Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh my God, it even has a watermark!
[Just after breaking up]
Evelyn Williams: Where are you going?
Patrick Bateman: I am just leaving.
Evelyn Williams: But where?
Patrick Bateman: I have to return some videotapes.
Patrick Bateman: I know my behavior can be... *erratic* sometimes.
David Van Patten: They don't have a good bathroom to do coke in.
Craig McDermott: Are you sure that's Paul Allen over there?
Timothy Bryce: Yes. McDufus, I am.
Craig McDermott: He's handling the Fisher account.
Timothy Bryce: Lucky bastard.
Craig McDermott: Lucky Jew bastard.
Patrick Bateman: Jesus, McDermott, what does that have to do with anything?
Craig McDermott: I've seen that bastard sitting in his office, talking on the phone to the CEOs, spinning a fucking menorah.
Patrick Bateman: Not a menorah. You spin a dreidel.
Craig McDermott: Oh, my God. Bateman, do you want me to fry you up some fucking potato pancakes? Some latkes?
Patrick Bateman: No. Just cool it with the anti-Semitic remarks.
Craig McDermott: Oh, I forgot. Bateman's dating someone from the ACLU.
Timothy Bryce: The voice of reason... the boy next door.
[looks at restaurant bill]
Timothy Bryce: Speaking of reasonable, only $570...
Evelyn Williams: What does Mr. Grinch want for Christmas? And don't say breast implants again.
Patrick Bateman: I don't want to get you drunk, but, ah, that's a very fine Chardonnay you're not drinking.
Luis Carruthers: Patrick, where did you get that overnight bag?
Patrick Bateman: [Throws dead body in the trunk and slams it] Jean Paul Gaultier.
Patrick Bateman: I'm on a diet.
Jean: What, you're kidding, right? You look great... so fit... and thin.
Patrick Bateman: Well, you can always be thinner... look better.
Jean: Then maybe we shouldn't go out to dinner. I wouldn't want you to lose your willpower.
Patrick Bateman: That's okay. I'm not very good at controlling it anyway.
Patrick Bateman: Evelyn, I'm sorry. I just, uh... you're not terribly important to me.
Patrick Bateman: [voiceover] I'm on the verge of tears by the time we arrive at Espace, since I'm positive we won't have a decent table. But we do, and relief washes over me in an awesome wave.
Donald Kimball: When was the last time you were with Paul Allen?
Patrick Bateman: We'd gone to a new musical called 'Oh Africa, Brave Africa'. It was a laugh riot.
Donald Kimball: Huey Lewis and the News. Great stuff! I just bought it on my way here. You heard it?
Patrick Bateman: Never. I mean I don't really like singers.
Donald Kimball: Not a big music fan, huh?
Patrick Bateman: No, I like music. Just they're... Huey's too black sounding for me.
Evelyn Williams: Thousands of roses and lots of chocolate truffles. Godiva, and oysters in the half-shell.
Patrick Bateman: [Bateman narrating] I'm trying to listen to the new Robert Palmer tape, but Evelyn, my supposed fiancée, keeps buzzing in my ear.
Evelyn Williams: Annie Leibovitz. We'll get Annie Leibovitz. And we'll have to get someone to videotape. Patrick, we should do it.
Patrick Bateman: Do what?
Evelyn Williams: Get married. Have a wedding.
Patrick Bateman: No, I can't take the time off work.
Evelyn Williams: Your father practically owns the company. You can do anything you like, silly.
Patrick Bateman: I don't want to talk about it.
Evelyn Williams: You hate that job anyway. I don't see why you just don't quit.
Patrick Bateman: Because I want to fit in.
Timothy Bryce: [after snorting "cut" cocaine] It's a fucking milligram of sweetener. I want to get high off this, not sprinkle it on my fucking oatmeal.
Patrick Bateman: Definitely weak, but I have a feeling that if we do enough of it we'll be okay.
Club Patron: [leans over from another booth] Will you keep it down? I'm trying to do drugs!
Timothy Bryce: Fuck you! Calm down. Let's do it anyway. That is if the FAGGOT in the next stall thinks it's okay!
Club Patron: FUCK YOU!
Timothy Bryce: HEY FUCK YOU! Sorry, dude. Steroids. Okay, let's do it.
Patrick Bateman: Did you know that Whitney Houston's debut LP, called simply Whitney Houston had 4 number one singles on it? Did you know that, Christie?
Elizabeth: [laughing] You actually listen to Whitney Houston? You own a Whitney Houston CD? More than one?
Patrick Bateman: It's hard to choose a favorite among so many great tracks, but "The Greatest Love of All" is one of the best, most powerful songs ever written about self-preservation, dignity. Its universal message crosses all boundaries and instills one with the hope that it's not too late to better ourselves. Since, Elizabeth, it's impossible in this world we live in to empathize with others, we can always empathize with ourselves. It's an important message, crucial really. And it's beautifully stated on the album.
Patrick Bateman: Pumpkin, you're dating the biggest dickweed in New York. Pumpkin, you're dating a tumbling, tumbling dickweed.
Courtney Rawlinson: Patrick, stop calling me pumpkin, OK?
Patrick Bateman: [narrating] I'm fairly certain that Timothy Bryce and Evelyn are having an affair. Timothy is the only interesting person I know. I'm almost completely indifferent as to whether Evelyn knows I'm having an affair with Courtney Rawlinson, her closest friend. Courtney is almost perfect looking. She's usually operating on one or more psychiatric drugs; tonight I believe it's Xanax. More disturbing than the drug use, though, is the fact that she's engaged to Luis Carruthers, the biggest dufus in the business.
Craig McDermott: If they have a great personality and they're not great looking... then who fucking cares?
Patrick Bateman: Well, let's just say hypotetically ok? What if they have a great personality?
[pause, all laugh]
Patrick Bateman: I know, I know.
[all in unison]
David Van Patten: A good personality consists of a chick with a little hard body, who will satisfy all sexual demands without being too slutty about things, and who essentially will keep her dumb fucking mouth shut.
Craig McDermott: The only girls with good personalities who are smart or maybe funny or halfway intelligent or talented, though god knows what the fuck that means, are ugly chicks.
David Van Patten: Absolutely.
Craig McDermott: And this is because they have to make up for how fucking unnattractive they are.
Patrick Bateman: I think if you stay, something bad will happen. I think I might hurt you. You don't want to get hurt, do you?
Jean: No. No, I guess not. I don't want to get bruised.
David Van Patten: What are you so fucking zany about?
Patrick Bateman: I'm just a happy camper! Rockin' and a-rollin'!
Harold Carnes: [to his party] Face it. The Japanese will own most of this country by the end of the 90's.
Patrick Bateman: [walks over, laughing, patting him on the back] Shut up, Carnes. They will not.
[Carnes halfheartedly greets him with a small nod and looks away, putting a cigarette in his mouth]
Patrick Bateman: So, Harold, did you get my message?
Harold Carnes: [looks back at him with sudden interest, takes cigarette out of his mouth and shakes Bateman's hand, smiling] Jesus, yes! That was hilarious! That was you, wasn't it?
Patrick Bateman: Yeah, naturally.
Harold Carnes: Bateman killing Allen and the escort girls. That's fabulous. That's rich.
Patrick Bateman: What exactly do you mean?
Harold Carnes: The message you left. By the way, Davis, how's Cynthia? You're still seeing her, right?
Patrick Bateman: W-w-wait, Harold. What do you mean?
Harold Carnes: Excuse me. Nothing. It's good to see you.
[looks to the other side of the room]
Harold Carnes: Is that Edward Towers?
[he tries to walk off but Bateman stops him, totally bewildered]
Patrick Bateman: Wait, um...
Harold Carnes: Davis, I'm not one to badmouth anyone. Your joke was amusing, but come on, man. You had one fatal flaw. Bateman is such a dork. Such a boring spineless lightweight.
[Bateman closes his eyes, trying to shrug it off]
Harold Carnes: Now if you said Bryce or McDermott... Otherwise, it was amusing. Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be going.
Patrick Bateman: [again he tries to walk off but Bateman halts him] Wait, um... stop.
[Carnes' smile diminishes, Bateman speaks softly]
Patrick Bateman: I did it, Carnes. I killed him. *I'm* Patrick Bateman. I chopped Allen's fucking head off.
[Carnes' amusement is gone, simply stares at Bateman]
Patrick Bateman: The whole message I left on your machine was true.
Harold Carnes: [deadpan tone] Excuse me. I really must be going now.
Patrick Bateman: [Carnes tries once again to leave but Bateman pulls him back] No, listen! Don't you know who I am? I'm not Davis. I'm Patrick Bateman.
[Carnes continues to stare, saying nothing]
Patrick Bateman: We talked on the phone all the time. Don't you recognize me? You're my lawyer.
[leans in closer]
Patrick Bateman: Now, Carnes, listen. Listen very, very carefully... I killed Paul Allen, and I liked it.
[Carnes looks disbelievingly at him]
Patrick Bateman: I can't make myself any clearer.
Harold Carnes: But that's simply not possible. And I don't find this funny anymore.
Patrick Bateman: It never was supposed to be. Why isn't it possible?
Harold Carnes: It's just not.
Patrick Bateman: Why not, you stupid bastard?
Harold Carnes: Because I had dinner with Paul Allen twice in London, just 10 days ago.
Patrick Bateman: No, you...
Patrick Bateman: ... didn't.
Harold Carnes: Now if you'll excuse me.
[Carnes finally walks away, leaving the puzzled and horrified Bateman all alone]
Patrick Bateman: [faking a conversation on the phone] Now, John, you've to wear clothes in proportion to your physique. There are definite dos and don'ts, good buddy of wearing a bold striped shirt. A bold stripe shirt calls for solid colored or discreetly patterned suits and ties.
Patrick Bateman: Yes, always tip the stylist 15%. Listen, John, I've gotta go, T. Boone Pickens just walked in.
Patrick Bateman: Just joking. No, don't tip the owner of the salon. Okay John? Right? Got it.
Patrick Bateman: [Impersonating Paul Allen's voicemail] Hi, this is Paul Allen. I'm being called away to London for a few days. Meredith, I'll call you when I get back. Hasta la vista, baby.
Patrick Bateman: I'm leaving. I've assessed the situation, and I'm going.
Patrick Bateman: You're dating Luis, he's in Arizona. You're fucking me and we haven't made plans. What could you possibly be up to tonight?
Patrick Bateman: Wasn't Rothschild originally handling the Fisher account? How did you get it?
Paul Allen: Well, Halberstram, I could tell you... but then I'd have to kill ya.
Paul Allen: This is really a beehive of, uh, activity, Halberstam. This place is hot, very hot.
Patrick Bateman: Listen, the mud soup and the charcoal arugula are outrageous here.
Paul Allen: Yeah, well. You're late.
Patrick Bateman: Hey, I'm a child of divorce. Give me a break.
Patrick Bateman: Hmmmm, I see they've omitted the pork loin with lime Jell-O.
Patrick Bateman: [looks across the room] Is that Ivana Trump over there? Jeez, Patrick, I mean Marcus, what are you thinking? Why would Ivana be at Texarkana?
[about Paul Allen's mysterious disappearence]
Patrick Bateman: The world just opens up and swallows them.
Donald Kimball: Eerie. Very eerie.
Patrick Bateman: Your compliment was sufficient, Luis.
Waiter #1: Our pasta this evening is squid ravioli in a lemon grass broth with goat cheese profiteroles, and I also have an arugula Caesar salad. For entrees this evening, I have swordfish meatloaf with onion marmalade, rare roasted partridge breast in raspberry coulis with a sorrel timbale.
Waiter #2: ...and grilled free-range rabbit with herbed french fries. Our pasta tonight is a squid ravioli in a lemon grass broth, and the fish tonight is a grilled...
Patrick Bateman: That's a very fine chardonnay you're drinking. I want you to clean your vagina.
Patrick Bateman: Jean, I'm not going to make it... I'm not going to... make it... to the office this afternoon.
Jean: [alarmed] What is it, Patrick? Are you all right?
Patrick Bateman: Stop sounding so fucking... sad! *Jesus*!
Patrick Bateman: Did you know that Ted Bundy's first dog, a collie, was named Lassie?
Jean: Who's Ted Bundy?
Timothy Bryce: He makes himself out to be a harmless old codger, but inside... inside...
Patrick Bateman: [voice-over] ... "but inside" doesn't matter.
Craig McDermott: "Inside," yes, "inside... " - believe it or not, Bryce, we're actually listening to you...
Timothy Bryce: Come on, Bateman, what do you think?
Patrick Bateman: Whatever.
Patrick Bateman: I hope I'm not being cross-examined here.
Donald Kimball: Do you feel that way?
Patrick Bateman: No, not really.
Elizabeth: [to Christie the prostitute] What do you do?
Patrick Bateman: She's my... cousin.
Patrick Bateman: She's from... France.
Patrick Bateman: [excusing himself from Detective Kimball] Listen, you'll have to excuse me. I have a lunch meeting with Cliff Huxtable at the Four Seasons in 20 minutes.
Patrick Bateman: [voiceover] When I get to Paul Allen's place, I use the keys I took from his pocket. There is a moment of sheer panic when I realize that Paul's apartment overlooks the park and is obviously more expensive than mine. I calm myself and move into the bedroom, where I find his suitcase and start to pack.
Patrick Bateman: Not quite blonde, are we? More of a dirty blonde.
Craig McDermott: }: I'm not really hungry, I just need to have reservations somewhere.
Jean: Make someone happy. Have you ever wanted to?
Patrick Bateman: I'm looking for, uh...
[Puts nail gun to the back of Jean's head]
Patrick Bateman: I guess you could say I just want to have a meaningful relationship with someone special.
Patrick Bateman: Hamilton, have a holly-jolly Christmas.
[to Al, a homeless person]
Patrick Bateman: Get a god-damn job Al.
Victoria: [referring to the bloodstains on Bateman's sheets] What are those?
Patrick Bateman: Oh, uh, it's - cranberry juice. Uh, cran-apple.
Donald Kimball: I just have some questions about Paul Allen and yourself.
Patrick Bateman: Coffee?
Donald Kimball: No, I'm okay.
Patrick Bateman: Apollinaris?
Donald Kimball: No, I'm okay.
Patrick Bateman: Can you bring Mr...?
Donald Kimball: Kimball.
Patrick Bateman: Mr. Kimball a bottle of Apollinaris. It's no problem.
Patrick Bateman: So, what's the topic of discussion?
Patrick Bateman: New York Matinee called it "a playful but mysterious little dish".
Courtney Rawlinson: Listen Patrick, can we talk?
Patrick Bateman: You look... marvelous. There's nothing to say.
Evelyn Williams: You hate that job anyway. I don't see why you don't just quit.
Patrick Bateman: Because I want to fit in.
Timothy Bryce: God, I hate this place. It's a chick restaurant. Why aren't we at Dorsia?
Craig McDermott: Because Bateman won't give the maitre d' head.
[Bateman chuckles sarcastically and flicks a toothpick at McDermott]
Patrick Bateman: What's wrong with that? It's totally disease-free.
[at Paul Allen's apartment, empty and painted white]
Real estate agent: You saw the ad in the Times?
Patrick Bateman: No... Yeah, I mean yeah, in the Times.
Real estate agent: There was no ad in the Times. I think you should go now.
Donald Kimball: I'm sorry. I should've made an appointment. Was that anything important?
Patrick Bateman: Oh, that? Just mulling over business problems, examining opportunities, exchanging rumors, spreading gossip.
Timothy Bryce: Don't you know anything about Sri Lanka? About how the Sikhs are killing like tons of Israelis over there?
Donald Kimball: [about Paul Allen] And where did he go to school?
Patrick Bateman: Don't you know all this?
Donald Kimball: I just wanted to know if you know.
Patrick Bateman: [to Christie] Do you take credit card? Just joking.
Timothy Bryce: Gorbachev is downstairs. McDermott went to sign a peace treaty between the United States and Russia. He's the one behind Glasnost.
Young Woman: He said he was in mergers and acquisitions.
Timothy Bryce: You're not con-fused, are you?
Young Woman: No, not really.
Caron: Gorbachev is not downstairs.
Timothy Bryce: Caron's right. Gorbachev's not downstairs. He's at Tunnel.
Patrick Bateman: [to drycleaner] If you don't shut your fucking mouth, I will kill you.
Patrick Bateman: Just cool it with the anti-Semitic remarks.
Patrick Bateman: [with prostitutes] We're not through yet.
Craig McDermott: Cheer up, Bateman. What's the matter? No shiatsu this morning?