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Ah ku mä rakastan näit testimaan testei... oon aina joku psyko tai sit mä kuolen viikon sisää ymsssiii

Katselin pitkästä aikaa American Psychon. Täytyy lukea kirja taas, koska en muista siitä enää muuta kuin muutaman jutun. Kirjan pointti tulee kuitenkin selväksi elokuvassa ja ei tarvi lukea satoja sivuja muotivinkkejä jne.

"Harold, 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, meet me at Harry's Bar, so you know, keep your eyes open."

"You are a fucking ugly bitch, I want to stab you to death, and then play around with your blood."

"It's as if her mind is having a hard time communicating with her mouth, as if she is searching for a rational analysis of who I am, which is, of course, an impossibility: there...is...no...key."

"I have to return some videotapes..."

"Everything failed to subdue me. Soon everything seemed dull: another sunrise, the lives of heroes, falling in love, war, the discoveries people made about each other. The only thing that didn't bore me, obviously enough, was how much money Tim Price made, and yet in its obviousness it did. There wasn't a clear, identifiable emotion within me, except for greed and, possibly, total disgust. I had all the characteristics of a human being -- flesh, blood, skin, hair -- but my depersonalization was so intense, had gone so deep, that the normal ability to feel compassion had been eradicated, the victim of a slow, purposeful erasure. I was simply imitating reality, a rough resemblance of a human being, with only a dim corner of my mind functioning. Something horrible was happening and yet I couldn't figure out why -- I couldn't put my finger on it."

Bateman: Ask me a question.
Daisy: What do you do?
Bateman: I'm into... well, murders and executions mostly.
Daisy: Do you like it?
Bateman: It depends. Why?
Daisy: Because most guys I know who work with mergers and acquisitions really don't like it.

Jean: What's that?
Bateman: Duct tape. I need it for... taping something.