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Mrs. Atwater: Do you know, when I was a girl I used to read quite a bit.
Brandon: We all do strange things in our childhood.

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Brandon: I've always wished for more artistic talent. Well, murder can be an art, too. The power to kill can be just as satisfying as the power to create.

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Rupert Cadell: Brandon's spoken of you.
Janet: Did he do me justice?
Rupert Cadell: Do you deserve justice?

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Brandon: What are you doing?
Rupert Cadell: It's not what I'm going to do, Brandon. It's what society is going to do. I don't know what that will be, but I can guess, and I can help. You're going to die, Brandon. Both of you. You are going to die.
[opens a window and fires three shots]

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Phillip: Rupert only publishes books *he* likes... usually philosophy.
Janet: Oh. Small print, big words, no sales.
Brandon: Rupert's extremely radical. Do you know that he selects his books on the assumption that people not only can read but actually can think?

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Rupert Cadell: Did you think you were God, Brandon?

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Brandon: Nobody commits a murder just for the experiment of committing it. Nobody except us.

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Phillip: I never strangled a chicken in my life!

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Brandon: Good and evil, right and wrong were invented for the ordinary average man, the inferior man, because he needs them.

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Brandon: It is a little difficult trying to keep up with your romances. After me came Kenneth, now it's David. Why the, the switch from Kenneth to David anyway?
Janet: Obviously I think he's nicer.
Brandon: Well, he's certainly richer.
Janet: That's a new low... even for you, chum.

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Brandon: Mrs. Wilson, champagne!
Kenneth: Oh, it isn't someone's birthday, is it?
Brandon: Don't look so worried, Kenneth. It's, uh, really almost the opposite.

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Rupert Cadell: You're quite a good chicken strangler as I recall.

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Rupert Cadell: [Phillip and Brandon have been arguing about strangling chickens] Personally, I think a chicken is as good a reason for murder as a blonde, a mattress full of dollar bills or any of the customary, unimaginative reasons.
Janet: Well, now, you don't really approve of murder, Rupert? If I may?
Rupert Cadell: You may...

and I do. Think of the problems it would solve: unemployment, poverty, standing in line for theatre tickets... .

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Brandon: We killed for the sake of danger and for the sake of killing.

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Rupert Cadell: By what right do you dare to say that there's a superior few to which you belong?

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Brandon: I've always thought that it was out of character for David to drink anything as corrupt as whiskey.
Phillip: Out of character for him to be murdered, too.

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Brandon: Determined to get drunk, aren't you?
Phillip: I am drunk.
Brandon: And just as childish as you were before when you called me a liar.
Phillip: You had no business telling that story.
Brandon: Why did you lie anyway?
Phillip: I had to! Have you ever

bothered for just one minute to understand how someone else might feel?
Brandon: I'm not sentimental if that's what you...
Phillip: No, that's not what I mean; but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters... except that Mr. Brandon liked the party. Mr. Brandon gave the party. Mr. Brandon had a delightful evening. Well, I had a rotten evening!

Brandon: Keep drinking, and you'll have a worse morning.
Phillip: At least if I have a hangover, it'll be all mine!

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Rupert Cadell: After all, murder is - or should be - an art. Not one of the 'seven lively', perhaps, but an art nevertheless. And, as such, the privilege of committing it should be reserved for those few who are really superior individuals.
Brandon: And the victims: inferior beings whose lives are unimportant anyway.
Rupert Cadell:

Obviously. Now, mind you, I don't hold with the extremists who feel that there should be open season for murder all year round. No, personally, I would prefer to have..."Cut a Throat Week"... or, uh, "Strangulation Day"...

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Brandon: The good Americans usually die young on the battlefield, don't they? Well, the Davids of this world merely occupy space, which is why he was the perfect victim for the perfect murder. Course he, uh, he was a Harvard undergraduate. That might make it justifiable homicide.

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Brandon: That's where we're superior, Phillip. We have courage. Rupert doesn't.
Mrs. Wilson: [placing a tray of food on the table] Mr. Cadell got a bad leg in the war for his courage. And you've got your sleeve in the celery, Mr. Phillip.