Marion Crane : Do you go out with friends? Norman Bates : Well, a boy's best friend is his mother. It's not as if is she were a maniac, a raving thing. She just goes - a little mad sometimes.
We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you? Marion Crane : Yes. Sometimes just one time can be enough. Norman Bates : Where are you going? Norman Bates : I didn't mean to pry.
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Marion Crane : I'm looking for a private island. Norman Bates : What are you running away from? Marion Crane : Why do you ask that? Norman Bates : People never really run away from anything.
The rain didn't last long, did it? 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 in mine. I don't mind it anymore. Marion Crane : Oh, but you should.
You should mind it. Norman Bates : Oh, I do Norman Bates : But I say I don't. Marion Crane : You know Norman Bates : Sometimes I feel I'd like to go up there Or at least defy her! But I know I can't. She's ill.
Marion Crane : Do you have any vacancies? Norman Bates : Oh, we have 12 vacancies. Norman Bates : I think I must have one of those faces you can't help believing. Marion Crane : Wouldn't it be better if you put her Norman leans forward with a conserned look on his face].
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?
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? Norman Bates : Oh, but she's harmless. She's as harmless as one of those stuffed birds. I felt that I meant well. Norman Bates : People always mean well. They cluck their thick tongues, and shake their he and suggest, oh, so very delicately! Norman Bates : She might have fooled me, but she didn't fool my mother.
Norman Bates : Mother! Oh God, mother! Norman Bates : Well, a son is a poor substitute for a lover. Marion Crane : Why don't you go away? Norman Bates : What, to a private island like you? Marion Crane : No, not like me.
Norman: a veteran’s best friend
Norman Bates : I couldn't do that. Who would look after her? The fire in her fireplace would go out. It would be cold and damp up there like a grave. If you love sombody, you wouldn't leave them even if they treat your badly.
Do you understand? I don't hate my mother.
I hate at what she's become. I hate her illness. Norma Bates : [voice-over] No! I tell you no!
I won't have you bringing some young girl in for supper! By candlelight, I suppose, in the cheap, erotic fashion of young men with cheap, erotic minds!
Norman Bates : [voice-over] Mother, please! Norma Bates : [voice-over] And then what?
After supper? Norman Bates : [voice-over] Mother, she's just a stranger. She's hungry, and it's raining out!
Norma Bates : [voice-over] "Mother, she's just a stranger"! As if men don't desire strangers! As if You understand, boy?