Now to understand it the way I understood it, hearing it from the mother... That is from the mother half of Norman's mind, you have to go back ten years... to the time when Norman murdered his mother and her lover. He was already dangerously disturbed. Had been ever since his father died. His mother was a clinging, demanding woman, and for years the two of them lived as if there was no one else in the world. Then she met a man and it seemed to Norman that she 'threw him over' for this man. That pushed him over the thin line... and he killed them both. Matricide is probably the most unbearable crime of all — most unbearable to the son who commits it. So he had to erase the crime, at least in his own mind. He stole her corpse... and a weighted coffin was buried. He hid the body in the fruit cellar. Even treated it to keep it as well as it would keep. And that still wasn't enough. She was there, but she was a corpse. So he began to think and speak for her. At times, he could be both personalities, carry on conversations. At other times, the mother half took over completely. He was never all Norman, but he was often only mother. [to Lila] When he met your sister, he was touched by her... and aroused by her. He wanted her. That set off his 'jealous mother' and 'mother' killed the girl. Whenever reality came too close, when danger and desire threatened that illusion, he dressed up, even to a cheap wig he bought. He'd walk around the house, sit in her chair, speak in her voice. He tried to be his mother. And now... he is.
Most scenes together: Marion Crane & Sam Loomis (2), Marion Crane & Norman Bates (2), Sam Loomis & Lila Crane (2)
Psycho quotes
Page 1 of 2Norman Bates' Mother: [in police custody, as Norman is thinking] It's sad when a mother has to speak to condemn her own son. I can't allow then to think I would commit murder. They'll put him away now as I should have years ago. He was always bad, and in the end he intended to tell them I killed those girls and that man, as if I could do anything but just sit and stare like one of his stuffed birds. They know I can't move a finger, and I won't. I want to just sit there and be quiet just in case they suspect me. They're probably watching me. Well, let them. Let them see what kind of person I am. I'm not even going to swat that fly. I hope they are watching... they'll see. They'll see and they'll know and they'll say "Why, she wouldn't even harm a fly..."
Look, that old woman, whoever she is, she told Arbogast something. I want her to tell us the same thing.
Hold it, you can't go up there.
Why not?
Bates.
Then let's find him. One of us can keep him occupied while the other gets to the old woman.
You'll never be able to hold him still even if he doesn't want to be held. And, I don't like you going into that house alone.
I can handle a sick old woman!
She left home on Friday. I was in Tuscon over the weekend and I haven't heard from her since, not even a phone call. Look, if you too are in this thing together, I don't care — It's none of my business — but I want to talk to Marion and I want her to tell me it's none of my business. And then I'll go!
Bob! Run out and get yourself some lunch, will you?
Oh, that's okay, Sam, I bought with me.
Run out and eat it!
Oh, we can see each other. We can even have dinner but respectably in my house with my mother's picture on the mantel and my sister helping me broil a big steak for three.
And after the steak, do we send Sister to the movies? Turn Mama's picture to the wall?
Wouldn't it be better if you... if you... put her someplace?
Do you mean an institution? A madhouse? People always call a madhouse "someplace", don't they? "Put her in someplace."
I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to sound uncaring. I...
What do you know about caring? Have you ever seen the inside of one those places? The laughing and the tears, and the cruel eyes studying you. My mother in there? But she's harmless. She's as harmless as one of these stuffed birds.
I am sorry. I only felt... I...
You felt what?
It seems that she was... she's hurting you. I meant well.
People always mean well. They cluck their thick tongues and they shake their heads and they suggest, oh, so very delicately... [calms down] Of course, I've suggested it myself.
No! I tell you no! I won't have you bringing in some young girl in for supper! By candlelight, I suppose, in the cheap erotic fashion of young men with cheap erotic minds!
Mother, please...!
And then what? After supper? Music? Whispers?
Mother, she's a stranger. She's hungry, and it's raining out!
"Mother, she's just a stranger"! As if men don't desire strangers! As if.. ooh, I refuse to speak of disgusting things, because they disgust me! You understand, boy? Go on, go tell her she'll not be appeasing her ugly appetite with my food or my son! Or do I have to tell you because you don't have the guts?
It's not as if she were a maniac or a raving thing. She just goes a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?
Yes. Sometimes just one time can be enough. Thank you.
Thank you, Norman.
Norman.
Your detective told you he couldn't come right back because he was goin' to question Norman Bates' mother. Right?
Yes.
Norman Bates' mother has been dead and buried in Greenlawn Cemetery for the past 10 years!
I helped Norman pick out the dress she was buried in. Blue Bay.
It ain't only local history, Sam. It's the only case of murder and suicide on the Fairvale ledgers. Mrs. Bates poisoned this guy she was... involved with... when she found out he was married. Then she took a helpin' of the same stuff herself. Strychnine. Ugly way to die.
Norman found them dead together... [whispers] in bed.
I better get back to the office. These extended lunch hours give my boss excess acid.
Why don't you call your boss and tell him you're taking the rest of the afternoon off? It's Friday, anyway - and hot.
What do I do with my free afternoon? Walk you to the airport?
A boy's best friend is his mother.
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.
Headaches are like resolutions. You forget them as soon as they stop hurting.