Marion Crane: Thank you.
Norman Bates: Thank you, Norman.
Marion Crane: Norman.

Norman Bates: Now mother, I'm going to uh, bring something up...
Norma Bates: Haha... I am sorry, boy, but you do manage to look ludicrous when you give me orders.
Norman Bates: Please, mother.
Norma Bates: No! I will not hide in the fruit cellar! Ha! You think I'm fruity, huh? I'm staying right here. This is my room and noone will drag me out of it, least of all my big, bold son!
Norman Bates: They'll come now, mother! He came after the girl and now someone will come after him. Please mother, it's just for a few days, just for a few days so they won't find you!
Norma Bates: 'Just for a few days'? In that dark, dank fruit cellar? No! You hid me there once boy, and you'll not do it again, not ever again, now get out! I told you to get out, boy.
Norman Bates: I'll carry you, mother.
Norma Bates: Norman! What do you think you're doing? Don't you touch me, don't! NORMAN! Put me down, put me down, I can walk on my own...

Norman Bates: You know what I think? I think that we're all in our private traps, clamped in them, and none of us can ever get out. We scratch and we claw, but only at the air, only at each other, and for all of it, we never budge an inch.
Marion Crane: Sometimes, we deliberately step into those traps.
Norman Bates: I was born into mine. I don't mind it anymore.
Marion Crane: Oh, but you should. You should mind it.
Norman Bates: Oh, I do
[laughs]
Norman Bates: but I say I don't.
Marion Crane: You know - if anyone ever talked to me the way I heard - the way she spoke to you...
Norman Bates: Sometimes - when she talks to me like that - I feel I'd like to go up there - and curse her - and-and-and leave her forever! Or at least defy her! But I know I can't. She's ill.

Marion Crane: Wouldn't it be better if you put her... someplace.
Norman Bates: You mean an institution? A madhouse?
Marion Crane: No, I didn't mean it like...
Norman Bates: [suddenly angry] People always call a madhouse "someplace", don't they? "Put her in someplace."
Marion Crane: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so uncaring.
Norman Bates: What do you know about caring? Have you ever seen the inside of one of those places? The laughing, and the tears, and those cruel eyes studying you? My mother there?
[subdued tone]
Norman Bates: Oh, but she's harmless. She's as harmless as one of those stuffed birds.
Marion Crane: I tried to mean well.
Norman Bates: People always mean well. They cluck their thick tongues, and shake their heads and suggest, oh, so very delicately.

I don't set a fancy table, but the kitchen's awful homey.

Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay just a little while longer? Just for talk?

A hobby should pass the time, not fill it.

Hate the smell of dampness, don't you? It's such a, I don't know, creepy smell.

A boy's best friend is his mother.

Norman Bates: Well, a son is a poor substitute for a lover.
Marion Crane: Why don't you go away?

She might have fooled me, but she didn't fool my mother.

Uh-uh, Mother-m-mother, uh, what is the phrase? She isn't quite herself today.

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