Sidney Bruhl Quotes in Deathtrap (1982)

Myra Bruhl: Well, have you thought about collaboration?

Sidney Bruhl: I don't want any help in killing Clifford Anderson. I want to strike the blow myself.

Sidney Bruhl: Every time I come in this bloody house, you scream!

Myra Bruhl: Is it really that good?

Sidney Bruhl: I'll tell you how good it is. Even a gifted director couldn't hurt it.

Sidney Bruhl: Darling, though I might be capable of killing Clifford Anderson, I am not up to the criminal behavior of a Broadway producer.

Sidney Bruhl: What I should do is, beat the fat bastard over the head with that mace over there, bury him in a hole big enough to accomodate his bloat, and then send his little masterpiece off under my own name.

Myra Bruhl: Ohh...

Sidney Bruhl: Heh heh. Now, there's the best idea I've had in ten years.

Myra Bruhl: Yes, darling, it's so unfair, isn't it?

Sidney Bruhl: I mean, what's the point in owning a mace, if you don't use it?

Sidney Bruhl: I wonder if it would not be... well, just a trifle starry-eyed of me to contemplate a partnership where I could count on no sense of moral obligation whatsoever.

Sidney Bruhl: Why make it anywhere? Why make it?

Clifford Anderson: Hahaha, because it's there, Sidney!

Sidney Bruhl: That's mountains, not plays! Plays are not there until some asshole writes them!

Sidney Bruhl: No blood on the carpet... ten points for neatness.

Myra Bruhl: But won't he have another copy lying around somewhere?

Sidney Bruhl: And notes and rough drafts and outlines! And on opening day of my triumph his gray-haired old mother will come running down the aisle...

[laughs]

Myra Bruhl: [screams]

Sidney Bruhl: Every time I come into this bloody house, you scream!

Sidney Bruhl: I'll bury him in the yard. No, the vegetable patch! Easier digging.

Sidney Bruhl: Oh, well. Nothing recedes like success.

[Clifford stops typing and sees that Sidney is reading the newspaper rather than also working]

Clifford Anderson: Nothing doing? Why don't you have Helga Ten Dorp over? I don't know, maybe talking with her might spark something.

[Sidney glares at him and removes the cigar from his mouth.]

Sidney Bruhl: You do like to live dangerously, don't you?

[Clifford sits back in his chair, chuckling.]

Sidney Bruhl: This is Clifford Anderson, my secretary; my friend, Porter Milgrim.

Clifford Anderson: How do you do, sir?

Porter Milgrim: How do you do.

Clifford Anderson: Nice to meet you.

Sidney Bruhl: I would say "my attorney," but he'd bill me.

Clifford Anderson: Would you like me to explain?

Sidney Bruhl: What, that you're a lunatic with a death-wish?

Clifford Anderson: Ha ha ha. I've got the same wish you have, Sidney - a success wish!

Sidney Bruhl: Clifford, I hate to ask this, but could you give me your own special definition of success, being gangbanged in the shower in the state penitentiary?

Clifford Anderson: Aw, geez, I knew you were going to have reservations about it.

Sidney Bruhl: Reservations? I am standing here, petrified, stupefied, horrified! How's that for bloody reservations?

Clifford Anderson: Come on, Sidney, listen. Look, there is no way... there is no way for anybody to prove what did or did not cause Myra to have a heart attack.

Sidney Bruhl: I have a name and a reputation! Somewhat tattered, perhaps. But still good for dinner invitations and summer seminars.

Clifford Anderson: Are you trying to say that you don't think that you can trust me?

Sidney Bruhl: How clearly you put it!

Sidney Bruhl: Clifford, my dear, in your run-ins with the law, in your infancy so to speak, did any of the doctors, policemen, shrinks, did any of them ever use... the... word...?

Clifford Anderson: What word Sidney?

Sidney Bruhl: Sociopath?

Clifford Anderson: Does that word... frighten you, Sidney?

Sidney Bruhl: No, no. It does however, give me pause.

Sidney Bruhl: Do a quick wash-up, get into bed, stay there.

Clifford Anderson: I'll buy that.

[Kissing Sidney]