First of all I know there's something. That evening when we played chess for instance it...

Tom Ripley: First of all I know there's something. That evening when we played chess for instance it was obvious. Dickie Greenleaf: What evening? Tom Ripley: Oh sure, no, no, it's too dangerous for you to take on. Oh, no, no, we're brothers. Hey. And then you do this sordid thing with Marge. Fucking her on the boat while we all have to listen. Which was excruciating, by the way! And you follow your cock around and now you're getting married! I'm bewildered, forgive me. You're lying to Marge and then you're getting married to her. You're knocking up Silvana. You're ruining everybody. You wanna play the sax, you wanna play the drums. What is it, Dickie? What do you actually play? Dickie Greenleaf: Who are you? Huh? Some third class mooch? Who are you? Who are you to say anything to me? I really, really don't want to be on this boat with you right now. I can't move without you moving. Gives me the creeps. [enraged by his on-the-fly suspicions] Dickie Greenleaf: You give me the creeps!

Boring. But you... First of all, I know there's something. That evening, when we played chess, for instance, it was obvious. - What evening? - No, it's dangerous for you to take on. Oh, no, no. We're brothers. Hey. And then you do this sordid thing with Marge, fucking her on the boat, while we all have to listen, which was excruciating. You follow your cock around like a... And now you're getting married. No, I'm bewildered. Forgive me. You're lying to Marge and then you're getting married to her. You're knocking up Silvana. You're ruining everybody... You want to play the sax. You want to play the drums. Which is it, Dickie? What are you actually? Who are you? Huh? Some third-class mooch? Who are you? Who are you to say anything to me? Who are you to tell me anything? Actually, I really, really do not want to be on this boat with you. - I can't move without you moving. - Shut up. It gives me the creeps. You give me the creeps. - You shut up. - "Dickie, Dickie!" like a little girl. Shut up! Oh, God, Dickie. - God's sake. - Oh... Oh God! Okay. Okay. - We have to get you... - (Screams) I'm gonna kill you! Kill you! (Screaming) You're dead! Stop! Stop! Please! Please! - (Screaming) - Stop it! Stop! - Dickie, let go! - I'll kill you! Stop! Stop! Stop! (Panting)