Marion Crane Quotes

California Charlie: It's the first time the customer ever high-pressured the salesman. I figure roughly... your car plus seven hundred dollars.
Marion Crane: Seven hundred dollars?
California Charlie: You always got time to argue money, huh?

Marion Crane: Do you go out with friends?
Norman Bates: A boy's best friend is his mother.

Norman Bates: It's not like my mother is a maniac or 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.
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... 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: Do you have any vacancies?
Norman Bates: Oh, we have 12 vacancies. 12 cabins, 12 vacancies.

I think I must have one of those faces you can't help believing.

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

Mother! Oh God, mother! Blood! Blood!

A son is a poor substitute for a lover.

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 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.

Marion Crane: Taxidermy. That is a strange hobby to fill.
Norman Bates: A hobby should pass the time, not fill it.

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

Dirty night.

I'll lick the stamps.