Knives Out

[Harlan reveals to Richard that he is aware that he has been cheating on Linda with another woman, having just shown Richard pictures on his laptop catching him in the act. Richard angrily closes the laptop.]

Harlan Thrombey:
I've put all of it in this letter to her. Tomorrow, she gets it.

Richard Drysdale:
Harlan, I'm warning you.

Harlan Thrombey:
No. She deserves to know.

Richard Drysdale:
You stay out of my marriage.

Harlan Thrombey:
She deserves to know and you're gonna tell her.

Richard Drysdale:
THE HELL I AM!!!

Harlan Thrombey:
YOU TELL HER OR I WILL!!!

Marta Cabrera:
I've never been to a will reading before.

Benoit Blanc:
You'd think it'd be like a game show, but think of a community production of a tax return.

Ransom Drysdale:
That's some heavy-duty conjecture.

Walt Thrombey:
Funny, Ransom, you skipped the funeral, but you're early for the will reading.

Ransom Drysdale:
Up your ass.

Meg Thrombey:
Oh, very nice!

Ransom Drysdale:
Matter of fact, eat sh*t. How's that? [pointing to each family member who is shouting at him] Eat sh*t, eat sh*t, eat sh*t... definitely eat sh*t... We gotta do this more often.

Benoit Blanc:
This is a twisted web, and we are not finished untangling it, not yet.

Ransom Drysdale:
What is this, CSI: KFC?

Marta Cabrera:
What was that about will readings being boring?

Benoit Blanc:
The exception that proves the rule.

Marta Cabrera:
You're not much of a detective, are you?

Benoit Blanc:
Well, to be fair, you make a pretty lousy murderer.

Benoit Blanc:
Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to request that you all stay until the investigation is completed.

Linda Drysdale:
What?

Joni Thrombey:
Can we ask why? Has something changed?

Benoit Blanc:
No...

Joni Thrombey:
No, it hasn't changed, or no, we can't ask?

Benoit Blanc:
Harlan's detectives, they dig, they rifle and root. Truffle pigs. I anticipate the terminus of Gravity's Rainbow.

Marta Cabrera:
Gravity's Rainbow.

Benoit Blanc:
It's a novel.

Marta Cabrera:
Yeah, I know. I haven't read it though.

Benoit Blanc:
Neither have I. Nobody has. But I like the title. It describes the path of a projectile determined by natural law.

Benoit Blanc:
It's a weird case from the start. A case with a hole in the center. A donut.

Benoit Blanc:
I suspect foul play. I have eliminated no suspects.

Benoit Blanc:
I spoke in the car about the hole at the center of this donut. And yes, what you and Harlan did that fateful night seems at first glance to fill that hole perfectly. A donut hole in the donut's hole. But we must look a little closer. And when we do, we see that the donut hole has a hole in its center – it is not a donut hole at all, but a smaller donut with its hole, and our donut is not whole at all!

Benoit Blanc:
You have a regurgitative reaction to mistruths.

Benoit Blanc:
But the complexity and the gray lie not in the truth, but what you do with the truth once you have it.

Benoit Blanc:
Physical evidence can tell a clear story with a forked tongue.

Benoit Blanc:
Why is grief the providence of youth? I don't know. But I'd imagine that age deepens all feelings.

Benoit Blanc:
The best judge of character is a dog. I've found that to be true.

Benoit Blanc:
It describes the path of a projectile determined by natural law. Et voila, my method. I observe the facts without biases of the head or heart. I determine the arc's path, stroll to its terminus and the truth falls at my feet.

Benoit Blanc:
What were the words overheard by the Nazi child masturbatin' in the bathroom? "My will" and "I'm warning you."

Benoit Blanc:
You and Harlan were "drama mamas", you shared a love of twisting the knife into one another. You see, I don't believe he would have slipped it in halfway. No, no, no. I submit Harlan told you everything.

Ransom Drysdale:
My mother, ladies and gentlemen.

Ransom Drysdale:
Eat sh*t

Ransom Drysdale:
What the sh*t!?

Ransom Drysdale:
Oh just shut up! Shut up with that Kentucky-fried Foghorn Leghorn drawl!

Marta Cabrera:
I'm not playing to beat you, I'm playing to build a beautiful pattern.

Marta Cabrera:
You want my insight into this family? None of them are murderers. That's my insight.

Linda Drysdale:
We are the Thrombeys, goddammit! This is still our house!

Linda Drysdale:
[to Marta] Were you boinking my father?

Walt Thrombey:
I think it means that our father finally came to his senses and cut this worthless little brat out of his will. (to Ransom) So I guess you're gonna have to sell the Beamer and give your notice at the country club and kick whatever fashion drug you're on, because if you think that after all the bridges you've burned, after all the sh*t you've said and after everything that you've put this family through for the past ten years that any of us are going to support you, that any of us are going to give you - like DAD liked to say - "a single red DIME", you're NUTS!

Richard Drysdale:
Walt doesn't run sh*t!

Joni Thrombey:
Oh they're my family. I feel simultaneously freed by and supported by them, that balance of opposites is the nugget of Flam.

Joni Thrombey:
Wait a minute - I read a tweet about a New Yorker article about you!

Detective Lieutenant Elliot:
That... was the dumbest car chase of all time.

Detective Lieutenant Elliot:
OK, don't answer that if you're going to puke. Please.

Meg Thrombey:
(being questioned, about Jacob) He's an alt-right dipstick troll.