Patrick Bateman: That's a very expensive glass of Chardonnay
you're NOT drinking there. It isn't poisoned.
Patrick Bateman: You are a fucking ugly bitch and I want to
stab you to death and play with your blood.
Craig McDermott: I'm not really hungry, I just need to have
reservations somewhere.
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!
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 look thinner. 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: Not quite blonde, are we? More of a dirty
blonde.
Patrick Bateman: I like to dissect women. Did you know I'm
totally insane?
Patrick Bateman: Sabrina, don't just stare at it. Eat it.
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: 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.
