Patrick Bateman: I don't think we should see each other any more.
Evelyn Williams: Why? What's wrong?
Patrick Bateman: I need to engage in homicidal behaviour on a massive scale. It can not be corrected but I have no other way to fulfill my needs.
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: Ask me a question.
Daisy: What do you do?
Patrick Bateman: I'm into... well murders and executions mostly.
Daisy: Do you like it?
Patrick Bateman: It depends. Why?
Daisy: Because most guys I know who work with mergers and acquisitions really don't like it.
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, uh, 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
1 comment:
Bateman did such a great job with that!
The book, though, was too bland and unreadable.
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