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Dickie Greenleaf: Everybody should have one talent, what's yours?
Tom Ripley: Telling lies, forging signatures and impersonating almost anybody.
Dickie Greenleaf: That's three. Nobody should have more than one talent. So, do an impression.
Tom Ripley: What, now?
Dickie Greenleaf: Yeah.
Tom Ripley: [imitating Dickie's father] "The only talent my son has is for cashing his allowance."
Dickie Greenleaf: [stunned] What?
Tom Ripley: "Oh, I love to sail, believe me, I love to sail. Instead, I make sailboats, and other people sail them."
Dickie Greenleaf: Stop! It's too much. You're making the hairs on my neck stand up!
Tom Ripley: "Oh, yes, jazz? Let's face it, jazz is insolent noise."
Dickie Greenleaf: It's like he's here. Horrible, like the old bastard's here! That's brilliant! Brilliant! How do you know him?
Tom Ripley: Oh, I met him in New York.
Dickie Greenleaf: Marge, you have to hear this! This is scary. Marge Sherwood, I'd like you to meet my father, Herbert Richard Greenleaf, the First.
Tom Ripley: "How do you do, Marge. Dickie's made a fine catch. I know Emily thinks so."
Marge Sherwood: I... I don't get it.
Dickie Greenleaf: It's uncanny!
Tom Ripley: [turning to Dickie] "Could you ever conceive of going to Italy, Tom? Bring him back?"
Dickie Greenleaf: [confused] What?
Tom Ripley: "I'd pay you if you would go to Italy and persuade my son to come home. I'd pay you a thousand dollars."
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