-I hope you feel better today, Mary.
-Well, I don't.

-You will.
-This whole thing is ridiculous.

-What whole thing, Mary?
-Psychoanalysis, it's so boring...

Lying there on the couch,
like some dreary nitwit, telling all.

You can't expect to get anywhere...
listening to me babble about my
idiotic childhood. Really?

My patients always regard me
as a nuisance during our first talks.

I see, it's my subconscious
putting up a fight...

-lt doesn't want me cured.

it wants to continue
enjoying your disease.

Our job is to
make you understand why.

When you know why
you do something...

and when you first
started doing it...

-Then you can start curing yourself.
-You mean I've been telling you lies.

The usual proportion.
You're right.
I've been lying like mad...

I hate men, I loathe them.
If one so much as touches me
I want to sink my teeth...

into his hand
and bite it off.

In fact I did that once.
Would you care to hear about it?

-Tell me anything you remember.
-We were dancing...

He kept asking me to marry him,
panting in my ear...

I suddenly pretended
I was going to kiss him...

and sank my teeth into his moustache.
Bit it clear off.

You're laughing at me. That smug
face of yours doesn't take me in...

You just want me to tell you all this
so you can feel superior to me.

You and your drooling science.
I detest you.

I never want to see
that nasty face of yours again.

I can't bear you. You and your
nickelsworth of nothing.

-Come on, Miss Carmichael.
-Silly fool...

letting a creature like that
worry me. Miss Frozen Puss.

Dr. Floreau. I want to talk
to you alone...

I can't stand that woman.
-I'll see you later, Mary.
-Come on Miss Carmichael.