Dr. Kate McTiernan:
[Kate is under hypnosis, reliving her escape from Casanova] I hear him, whispering.
Alex Cross:
[about Casanova] What does he say?
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
I can feel his mouth on my ear, his breath. He tells me that he loves me.
Alex Cross:
Tell me about his face. Tell me about his eyes. His mouth.
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
[Kate's breathing begins to quicken] He has no face. A mask! He always wears a mask!
Alex Cross:
What kind of mask? What does it look like?
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
[her breathing slows] It changes. I can't show him that I hate him.
Alex Cross:
But you escape. What do you see when you escape?
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
I don't know. I'm just running. And my legs... are heavy from the drugs. And I'm lost. I'm running through hallways and there are all these rooms, I don't know where to turn! [becomes panicked, starts to cry]
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
He's behind me!
Alex Cross:
He's not behind you Kate, you get away. How? How do you get out?
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
[Kate's breathing is becoming more rapid, as she becomes more panicked] Light. Light! The light and the sun.
Alex Cross:
Do you see a barn?
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
No!
Alex Cross:
A house?
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
No! No! There's nothing! Just the light. It hurts my eyes. And then the trees, the trees again. [starts to sob, and begins to hyperventilate]
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
And the rocks are digging into my feet! And I hear him, shouting behind me, and I try to run faster! That's all I'm thinking: just run faster! [begins sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for breath]
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
And I left those girls behind! I wasn't thinking, I just told myself to run, to run, run!
Alex Cross:
[Alex reaches out to comfort Kate] It's all right, it's all right.
Dr. Kate McTiernan:
[through sobs] I left those girls!
Sin LaSalle:
Have you lost your mind? I mean, how is it that you can disrespect a mans ethnicity when you know we've influenced nearly every facet of white America... from our music to our style of dress. Not to mention your basic imitation of our sense of cool; walk, talk, dress, mannerisms... we enrich your very existence, all the while contributing to the gross national product through our achievements in corporate America. It's these conceits that comfort me when I am faced with the ignorant, cowardly, bitter and bigoted, who *have* no talent, no guts? people like you who desecrate things they don't understand when the truth is - you should say thank-you, man? and go on about your way. But apparently you are incapable of doing that! So... [shoots his gun]
Sin LaSalle:
... and don't tell me to be cool. I *am* cool!
Dagmar:
So, tell me about Karin. I don't know her very well.
Lars Lindstrom:
Oh, she's wonderful. Gus and I are very lucky with women - she's wonderful. But she...
Dagmar:
That's okay, let's find you something to read
Lars Lindstrom:
No, it's just… between us?
Dagmar:
Of course.
Lars Lindstrom:
I'm worried about her. I think she has a little problem.
Dagmar:
Oh, well, maybe you shouldn't tell me.
Lars Lindstrom:
No, that's okay. It's just, and I think it's because she's insecure, it's just, she's just always trying to hug everybody. You know, some people don't like that. Some people don't like to be hugged. But she doesn't realize that. She takes it personally, and, it hurts her feelings. I don't know what to do about that. Do you?
Dagmar:
It's such a comfort sometimes, just to have somebody's arms around you. Don't you think?
Lars Lindstrom:
No.
Dagmar:
It feels good.
Lars Lindstrom:
It does not feel good. It, it hurts.
Dagmar:
Oh, like a cut, or bruise?
Lars Lindstrom:
Like a burn. Like when you go outside and your feet freeze and you come back in and then they thaw out? It's like that. It's almost exactly like that.
Dagmar:
Same with everyone?
Lars Lindstrom:
Uh, not really with Bianca. But everyone else
Ron:
You know, Terry, a lot of people come to see me with all kinds of problems. Drugs, alcohol, marital problems, sexual problems, health problems
Terry:
Great job you got.
Ron:
Well... I like it. Because even in this little town, I feel like what I do is very connected with the real center of people's lives. I'm not saying I'm always Mr. Effective, but I don't feel like my life is off to the side of what's important. You know? I don't feel my happiness and comfort are based on closing my eyes to trouble within myself or trouble in other people. I don't feel like a negligible little scrap, floating around in some kind of empty void, with no sense of connectedness to anything around me except by virtue of whatever little philosophies I can scrape together on my own...
Terry:
Well
Ron:
Can I ask you, Terry: Do you think your life is important?
Terry:
You mean - Like, me personally, my individual life?
Ron:
Yeah.
Terry:
Well... I'm not sure - What do you mean? It's important to me. I guess. And like, to my, you know, the people who care about me...
Ron:
But do you think it's important?
Terry:
I -
Ron:
Do you think it's important in the scheme of things? Not just because it's yours, or because you're somebody's brother. Because I don't really get the impression that you do.
Terry:
Well, I don't think... I don't particularly think anybody's life has any particular importance besides whatever - you know - whatever we arbitrarily give it. Which is fine. I mean we might as well... I think I'm as important as anybody else...
Terry:
I don't know: A lot of what you're saying has a real appeal to me, Ron. A lot of the stuff they told us when we were kids... But I don't want to believe something or not believe it because I might feel bad. I want to believe it because I think it's true or not... I'd like to think that my life is important... Or that it's connected to something important...
Ron:
Well, isn't there any way for you to believe that without calling it God, or religion, or whatever term it is you object to?
Terry:
Yes. I believe that.
[the shot Mr. Orange knows some things about Mr. White]
Mr. White:
Well, he knows a little about me.
Mr. Pink:
You didn't tell him your name, did you?
Mr. White:
I told him my first name, and where I'm from.
Mr. Pink:
Why?
Mr. White:
I told him where I was from a few days ago. It was just a casual conversation.
Mr. Pink:
And what was tellin' him your name when you weren't supposed to?
Mr. White:
He asked. [pause]
Mr. White:
We had just gotten away from the cops. He just got shot. It was my fuckin' fault he got shot. He's a fuckin' bloody mess - he's screaming. I swear to god, I thought he was gonna die right then and there. I'm tryin' to comfort him, tellin' him not to worry, he's gonna be okay, I'm gonna take care of him. And he asked me what my name was. I mean, the man was dyin' in my arms. What the fuck was I supposed to tell him? "Sorry, I can't give out that information! It's against the rules! I don't trust you enough! Or maybe I should've, but I couldn't!" Fuck you! Fuck Joe!
Mr. Pink:
[sarcastically] Oh, I'm sure it was a beautiful scene...
Mr. White:
DON'T FUCKING PATRONIZE ME!
