Christian Bale: ...Although you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours. I simply am not there...
Christian's Mother: Thanks for...telling us that, honey.
Christian: You like
Huey Lewis and the News? Their early work was a lit--
Mother: No I prefer good music.
Christian: You didn't let me finish...
Christian's Sister: Say bro, got any Dunkaroos I can snack on?
Christian: You're going to have the roasted duck with peanut butter soup. New York Matinee called it a playful, but mysterious little dish.
Sister: Nah, that sounds pretty bad
Christian (mutters): You're a f*cking ugly bitch. I want to stab you to death. Then play around with your blood.
Sister: WHAT? Did... did you think we couldn't hear that for some reason? Cause we totally could.
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