Psychiatrist Quotes in Ghostbusters II (1989)

[the Ghostbusters have been committed to a mental hospital]

Ray: As I explained before, we think the spirit of a 17th century Moldavian tyrant is alive and well in a painting at the Manhattan Museum of Art.

Psychiatrist: Uh-huh, and are there any other paintings in the museum with bad spirits in them?

Egon: You're wasting valuable time. He's drawing strength from a psychomagnotheric slime flow that's been collecting under the city.

Psychiatrist: Yes, tell me about the slime.

Winston: It's very potent stuff. We made a toaster dance with it.

[motions to Peter]

Winston: And a bathtub tried to eat his friend's baby.

Psychiatrist: A bathtub?

Peter Venkman: [with his head buried in his arms in despair] Don't look at me. I think these people are completely nuts.

Psychiatrist: Today is the first day of the rest of your life. You gotta go out and enjoy it. Knock back a couple of beers, hit a titty bar.

Doctor: Excuse me?

Psychiatrist: Have some smelly snatch rubbed in your face. You gotta get out there, man.

Doctor: Yeah, I've gotta do it.

Psychiatrist: Tackle a fucking whore, get your dick wet. Dip your wick into life a little bit. Have some fun.

Doctor: Yeah. I'm gonna go out there and floss my teeth with some pubes.

Psychiatrist: Oh, now you're on it.

Doctor: I'm done with fear. My life begins today.

[a stray bullet finds the doctor's head and kills him instantly while the psychiatrist pukes]

Psychiatrist: Nick, have you ever considered hurting yourself?

Nick Cassidy: Hurting?

Psychiatrist: Aham.

Nick Cassidy: No... but killin'... every goddamn day.

Mr. Belafonte: All right. Fine. I didn't see a snake. For heaven's sake, there is no such thing as a giant snake. I must have lost my mind for a second.

Psychiatrist: Everybody makes mistakes. I'm glad you're seeing clearly.

[to the guard]

Psychiatrist: You may untie him.

Mr. Belafonte: I hate to say this, but the giant snake is in this hospital right now. Look out your window.

Psychiatrist: Tie him again. He has to be hospitalized.

Nandini: Doctor, will he turn back into Anniyan?

Psychiatrist: Yes, but it is not certain where or when he will change. Most probably when there is injustice going around him.

Nandini: Will he come after me if he changes again?

Psychiatrist: Yes.

[laughs]

Charles Barkley: It was this girl, five-feet-nuthin'. Blocked my shot!

Psychiatrist: When did you first start having this dream?

Charles Barkley: It wasn't a dream, it really happened!

Muggsy Bogues: What are you saying? That I'm trying to disobey my mama?

Psychiatrist: I didn't say that. You did, Muggsy.

Muggsy Bogues: But I love my mama.

Psychiatrist: Are there any other areas, besides basketball, that you find yourself...

Barry White's voice: Yeah?

Psychiatrist: ...unable to perform?

Barry White's voice: Yeah, yeah...

Patrick Ewing: [irritated] No!

Psychiatrist: I'm just asking.

Psychiatrist: You always relied on the kindness of powerful men, *didn't* you?

Psychiatrist: That's an unusual problem, Mr. Connors. Uh, Most of my work is with couples, families. I have an alcoholic now.

Phil: Well you went to college, right? I mean, it wasn't veterinary psychology, was it? Didn't you take some kind of course that covered this stuff?

Psychiatrist: Yeah, sort of, I guess. Uh, abnormal psychology.

Phil: So, what do I do?

Psychiatrist: I think we should meet again. How's tomorrow for you?

[Phil begins punching himself in the head through pillow]

Psychiatrist: Is that not good?

Psychiatrist: Tell me, Harold, how many of these, eh, *suicides* have you performed?

Harold: An accurate number would be difficult to gauge.

Psychiatrist: Well, just give me a rough estimate.

Harold: A rough estimate? I'd say

[savoring the thought]

Harold: fifteen.

Psychiatrist: Fifteen?

Harold: That's a rough estimate.

Psychiatrist: Were they all done for your mother's benefit?

Harold: No. No, I would not say "benefit."

Psychiatrist: A very common neurosis; particularly in this society, whereby the male child subconsciously wishes to sleep with his mother. Of course what puzzles me, Harold; is that you want to sleep with your grandmother.

Psychiatrist: That's very interesting, Harold, and I think, very illuminating. There seems to be a definite pattern emerging. And, of course, this pattern, once isolated, can be coped with. Recognize the problem, and you are halfway on the road to its, uh, its solution. Uh, tell me, Harold, what do you do for fun? What activity gives you a different sense of enjoyment from the others? Uh, what do you find fulfilling? What gives you that... special satisfaction?

Harold: ...I go to funerals.

Lisa: So I was just wondering if there was one general thing that you've found over the years to be generally true in a general way that would help anyone in any situation?

Psychiatrist: That's a great question, yes, I would say figure out what you want and learn how to ask for it.

Lisa: OK. Those are both really hard.

[after Bill recalls his dream]

Psychiatrist: And how is this different?

Bill: I don't kill myself at the end.

Psychiatrist: Mister Brody, this is very serious. Base on what I have heard today, I am required bylaw to notify the authorities.

Rick Vaughn: [Tosses baseball up in the air as he lays on the couch] You think you can help me with my fastball, Doc?

Psychiatrist: We'll have to deal with some deeper issues first.

Rick Vaughn: [Continues tossing ball] I don't have any deeper issues. I like to keep things right on the surface.

Psychiatrist: [Catches the ball] Well sometimes there are little surprises. Tell me, Rick. What goes through your mind when you throw your fastball?

Rick Vaughn: I wonder if it's gonna end up in the catcher's mit or some guy's den.

Psychiatrist: Did you used to think this way?

Rick Vaughn: I didn't used to think at all. It takes a lot out of you, you know?

Psychiatrist: Well then, Rick, let's get down to it.

[Closes pad and takes off glasses]

Psychiatrist: The real problem here goes back to when you stole that car. You wanted to be caught, didn't you? Punished. Otherwise you wouldn't have thrown the 0 and 2 fastball to Fields when everybody knows he'll chase the 2 strike curveball in the dirt.

Rick Vaughn: I had already thrown him two curveballs. The second one, he hit 436 feet foul.

Psychiatrist: Better than 520 feet fair.

Val: We once had a discussion about music and he threatened to push me down a flight of stairs.

Psychiatrist: What happened?

Val: It worked. He pushed me down a flight of stairs.

Psychiatrist: Tell me about your dream. The Cleveland Indians all got jobs at Toys R Us?

Jerry Falk: Yeah. So what can it possibly mean? Look, I can't keep wasting my hour here describing lunatic dreams. I have a date with Amanda. I can't keep running around town on the sly and live like this. Amanda can handle it, but I need help. What do I do? I have to extricate myself from Brooke. It'll break her heart. She wants to marry me.

Psychiatrist: What comes to mind about the Cleveland Indians?

Psychiatrist: CLOUSEAU!

Dreyfus: Now Doctor, there are some who would find your methods rather unorthodox.

Psychiatrist: Just seeing if I am a better Doctor than you are a Detective.

Alice Henderson: He wanted to know why I had a tee-tee...

Psychiatrist: Pardon me? I don't know what a tee-tee is.

Alice Henderson: A vagina.

Psychiatrist: Oh, it's a pet expression of yours.

Alice Henderson: Yes, you know words: tee-tee, tinkle, po-po, wee-wee, kee-kee, poo-poo.

Psychiatrist: I had never heard tee-tee before.

Alice Henderson: What expression do you use with your children?

Psychiatrist: Vagina.

Psychiatrist: When we come right up to the sex, you become embarrassed.

Alice Henderson: What am I... What would you like... What am I supposed to think?

Psychiatrist: I have no wants. Say what you think you'd like to say.

Alice Henderson: Do you think I need this? Do you really think you can help me?

Psychiatrist: I think it'd be useful to talk some more. I don't know for sure if I can help you or not. Do you think you can help yourself?

Alice Henderson: Ted is a very nervous man! Now sex is very important to a man! You know that!

Psychiatrist: Well, it seems that our time is up for today.

Denis Dimbleby Bagley: My grandfather was caught molesting a wallaby in a private zoo in 1919.

Psychiatrist: A wallaby?

Denis Dimbleby Bagley: It may have been a kangaroo. I'm not sure.

Psychiatrist: You mean sexually?

Denis Dimbleby Bagley: I suppose so. He had his hand in its pouch.

Psychiatrist: Tell me about advertising. Now, you resigned from a very important firm with a very highly-paid job. I'd like to know your reasons.

[Bagley doesn't answer]

Psychiatrist: Well, at least try and give me an example of even one of those reasons.

Denis Dimbleby Bagley: All right. Reason 1: advertising conspires with Big Brother.

Psychiatrist: And you're afraid of Big Brother? Someone or something coming into your life and telling you what to do?

Denis Dimbleby Bagley: No, I'm not afraid of him. I'm one of the few who really understands him. The man who conceived of Big Brother never knew what was coming down the line. Thought his filthy creation was gonna be watching us. But it is us who watch it. There's one in every living room. The montrous injustice of it is we stare at it of our own free will.

Psychiatrist: So we could say principally that it's television that you blame.

Denis Dimbleby Bagley: We can say entirely it is the crooks who've infiltrated it that I blame. They've moved in on the greatest means of communication since the wheel, and now they've done it their greed is insatiable. They're cutting down jungles to breed hamburgers, turning the whole world into a car park! They'd sell off the sea to satisfy the needs of their great god Greed! But it won't be satisfied, not til we're squatting in one of it's fucking hatchbacks on a motorway. But there isn't gonna be anywhere left to go, except in slow revolutions towards the crest of the next slag heap.

Psychiatrist: Do you have trouble in getting an erection?

Denis Dimbleby Bagley: What?

Psychiatrist: Can you get an erection?

Denis Dimbleby Bagley: Yes!

Psychiatrist: Masturbating much?

Denis Dimbleby Bagley: Constantly! I've got a talking boil on my neck! What would you do?

Wally: Doctor, why do those types

[motions with hands]

Wally: keep thinking that I'm one of them?

Psychiatrist: Well, Wally, because you *are* one of them. You are gay. You are gay. You are a homosexual. The opposite of straight, you're gay. I know it. Your family knows it. DOGS know it! Everyone seems to know it except you.

Psychiatrist: I'm sorry, I don't speak German.

Depressed German: [subtitled] The nipples of mother fortune have run dry...

Psychiatrist: Why did you try suicide?

Lucas: Well, you know, when it comes to survival of the fittest, I just have to throw in the towel, I guess.

Psychiatrist: But you're not an animal, Lucas, you're a human being. You live in highly developed society that has all kinds of buffers and security nets that are designed to break your fall.

Lucas: No, I don't follow the rules of civilization anymore. I'm outside. I'm an animal.

Matty Dean: [posing as La Miranda] : Oh, doctor, how '50s you be. Me, I'm living in the other state, between maleness and femaleness.

Psychiatrist: Which is?

Matty Dean: Fabulousness!

[Ralph descibing his vanity process]

Psychiatrist: You get your back WAXED?

Ralph: Yeah.

Psychiatrist: Ouch.

Ralph: Yeah, tell me about it. I'm Italian and Jewish. Twice the hair and the guilt.

Psychiatrist: I want to see you six days a week.

[looks at his appointment book]

Psychiatrist: I can't. How about every other Thursday?

Alex: What are we gonna do? Talk about me sex life?

Psychiatrist: Oh, no. I'm going to show you some slides and you're going to tell me what you think about them. Alright?

Alex: Jolly good. Do you know anything about dreams?

Psychiatrist: Something, yes.

Alex: Do you know what they mean?

Psychiatrist: Perhaps. Are you concerned about something?

Alex: Oh, no, no... not concerned really. But I've been having this very nasty dream. Very nasty.

Psychiatrist: Now, each of these slides needs a reply from somebody in the picture. You tell me what you think the person would say. Alright?

Alex: Righty-right.

Psychiatrist: Your parents say you're always lying.

Antoine Doinel: Oh, I lie now and then, I suppose. Sometimes I'd tell them the truth and they still wouldn't believe me, so I prefer to lie.

Psychiatrist: How are you feeling about this?

Cynthia: I don't know... excited, I guess. Relieved, but mostly scared... Confused. I don't know how he's going to respond to me. I'm afraid of what he might say. There's so much I want to tell him, I wouldn't know where to begin.

Psychiatrist: Dr. Sanji?

Dr. Sanji: I don't think he's overly psychotic, but, I still think he's quite sick.

Psychiatrist: You think he's dangerous?

Dr. Sanji: Absolutely so.

Claire Spencer: There's a ghost in my house. I saw her in the water, beside me, in the bathtub.

Psychiatrist: What does she look like?

Claire Spencer: She looked like me. Oh... only she had green eyes.

Psychiatrist: Human fish, swimming at the bottom of the great ocean of atmosphere, develop psychic injuries as they collide with one another. Most mortal of all are those gotten from the parent fish.

Psychiatrist: Tell me about your accident.

Milly: I was on a bridge, reaching for a flower and I fell over the railing.

Psychiatrist: You told your mother something about a boy who rescued you.

Milly: What are you, a shrink?

Psychiatrist: Yes.

Milly: Great, now I'm wacko.

Psychiatrist: It's important that you tell me everything you remember about this. Let me be the judge of whether you're wacko or not, okay?

Milly: Yeah, okay. I fell fifty feet without a mark on me, except for this.

[points to the small bandage on her forehead]

Milly: And I got this when I hit the railing. I didn't hit the ground. Somebody caught me. It was a boy named Eric. He can fly.

[pause]

Milly: I'm wacko, right?

Psychiatrist: No. Did you see him fly?

Milly: No, but you don't know Eric. All he does is sit in his windowsill and pretend to fly. His uncle said he's seen him do it and I've seen really weird things around their house. He can. What other explanation could there be?

Psychiatrist: Well, you fell. You have a concussion. You were losing consciousness. Maybe what you thought was Eric catching you was a tree or a bush breaking your fall. Your mind could be playing tricks on you. It can do that.

Milly: That's impossible.

Psychiatrist: It's more possible than a boy who could fly.

[long pause]

Psychiatrist: Dr. Nelson told me about your father. He committed suicide not long ago.

Milly: [defiantly] He did not.

Psychiatrist: How did he die?

Milly: [with difficulty] My father had cancer. And when he found out that he had it... he didn't want the rest of the family to suffer needlessly. So one day, he kissed us all goodbye and he said that he loved us all very much.

[crying]

Milly: Then he went away.

Spider: [turning in a shard of glass from the smashed door] I... I found this...

Psychiatrist: [we see the reconstructed panel on a desk] Ah, yes. We've been looking for that one...

Psychiatrist: Of these three, which in your view is the most important: Faith, hope or love?

Charlotte Gray: Hope.

Psychiatrist: You're not the only lonely man. Being free always involves being lonely. Just there is a mask you can peel off and another you can not.

Psychiatrist: Is there someone inside you?

Regan: Sometimes.

Psychiatrist: Who is it?

Regan: I don't know.

Psychiatrist: Is it Captain Howdy?

Regan: I don't know.

Psychiatrist: If I ask him to tell me, will you let him answer?

Regan: No.

Psychiatrist: Why not?

Regan: I'm afraid.

Psychiatrist: If you need to come and chat, you just call my secretary.

[to Cufe]

Psychiatrist: Experienced properly, death can be like a good sneeze.