thank heaven for happenstance.

These quotes were compiled by using transcripts from the excellent website Inside the X.

Clyde Bruckman: "I foresee a rock affair between superstar Madonna and super-witness Kato Kaelin." Well, that's a gimme, that's not really going out on a limb, is it? "I foresee Author J.D. Salinger finally publishing a new novel and hitting the talk show circuit to promote it." Hmmm... that's just playing the odds. "I foresee the revelation that not Elvis, but rather Buddy Holly is still alive, having faked his own death so many years ago. Holly will not only reemerge but also regroup with the Crickets and they will headline in next year's Lalapalaza..." Lalapaz... pazoola? What the hell is Lalapalazo?
Clerk: Who's Buddy Holly?

Puppet: I would just like for you to be able to tell me why I am going to be doing the things I'm going to be doing?
Madame Zelma: Madame Zelma, she is a palm reader, not a psychologist.
Puppet: I know, I know, it's just... I think I've somehow caught a glimpse of my own future, myself. And I see me doing things that... that just seem so out of character for me. I mean, these are things that not only do I not want to be doing, but I can't even imagine myself capable of doing and yet, there I am. I'm doing them.
Madame Zelma: Mister... please, you're hurting me.
Puppet: I know, I know... and I'm sorry. But you're a fortune teller.
Madame Zelma: No...
Puppet: You should've seen this coming.

Photographer: They say the eyes capture the last image the murder victim sees before they're killed.
Cline: So what do they say about the entrails?
Photographer: Yuck.

Havez: Is it true you asked for some help in this case?
Cline: This guy's supposed to be an expert at this sort of thing.
Havez: I heard he was a bit... unorthodox.
Cline: He comes highly recommended.
Havez: Yeah. I saw him on TV.
Cline: Hey, so he's a publicity hound. As long as he gets results.
Photographer: I once worked on a case he did. Very spooky.
Cline: As long as he gives us leads, I don't care how big a kook.
Policeman: Sir, right in here, please.
Cline: Who the hell are you?
Mulder: I'm Agent Mulder. This is Agent Scully.
Cline: Oh, I forgot you were coming aboard.

Havez: So this guy is hacking up people in order to see his future?
Scully: Well, there's a possible connection with all of his victims being professional prognosticators.
Cline: Till this one. She was a professional doll collector.
Mulder: And an amateur tasseographer. She read tea leaves. After drinking the tea, you can gain insight into your future by examining the pattern of the leaves on the bottom of the cup.
Cline: You believe in this stuff?
Mulder: I'm not convinced of its accuracy but I'm pretty sure the victim was.
Cline: Why?
Mulder: Her leaves were telling her she was about to be murdered.

Cline: Mister Yappi, I appreciate you coming all the way down here...
Yappi: Quiet! Yes, I'm seeing visions. Visions of the killer. He does not feel like he is in control of his own life. Very important. That's why he kills, yes!
Cline: Can you see what he looks like?
Yappi: He looks like... A white man with facial hair. Or not. But he has... yes! A tattoo! Somewhere on his body. Maybe the tattoo has the facial hair. I think. Hmm! I see him here! Forcing himself, yes! On the girl! But he cannot perform... so he's taking out his rage. It's gone. I lost the vision. Someone is blocking me. I am picking up negative energy. Please leave this room.
Mulder: I'm part of this investigation.
Yappi: You give off negative energy.
Mulder: I can assure you, Mister Yappi, I'm a believer in psychic ability.
Yappi: So you say with your mouth but your thoughts tell me the truth.
Cline: Agent Mulder, please.
Scully: I can't take you anywhere.

Yappi: Skeptics like you make me sick.
Mulder: Mister Yappi, read this thought.
Yappi: So's your old man!

Scully: It's too bad about your "negative energy," Mulder, you missed quite a performance.
Cline: Look what he did to my pen.
Mulder: Well, let me impress you with my psychic ability. Mister Yappi proclaimed the victim's body would be found near water, he saw a church or a school in the vicinity, he got a flash of the letter "S" and/or the number "seven."
Cline: So what's your point?
Mulder: Well, his leads are so vague as to be practically useless yet easily interpreted to be correct after the fact.
Scully: He said the killer doesn't feel in control of his own life but that's true of everyone at times.
Cline: He said a lot of things.
Mulder: Yeah, and some are bound by percentages to be right but most will turn out wrong. Now, which is which?
Cline: Look, all I know is that so far, Yappi has provided more solid, concrete leads on this case than you have. Now, if you don't mind, I have to get an A.P.B. out on a white male, age seventeen to thirty-four, with or without a beard, maybe a tattoo... who's impotent. Let's go.

Clyde Bruckman: So General Mutual has a very comprehensive two-hundred thousand dollar life policy at a net annual cost of twenty-four hundred dollars.
Young Husband: You see, the thing is... we were really hoping to buy a boat.
Clyde Bruckman: Mister Gordon, uh, as a young husband, I think you're going to find that your new responsibilities to your family take precedent over your recreational needs.
Young Husband: But this is a really good boat.
Clyde Bruckman: You don't get it, do you, kid? Two years from now, while driving down Route 91... coming home to your wife and baby daughter... you're going to be hit head-on by a drunk... driving a blue '87 mustang. You'll end up looking worse than sixty feet of bad road your body slides across... after flying out your front windshield.
Young Husband: Mister... you really need to work on your closing technique.

Cline: It's kind of creepy, isn't it? The Stupendous Yappi said the first victim's body would be dumped somewhere, then we find it in a dumpster.
Mulder: Oooh, I just got a chill down my spine.

Scully: According to the police report, Mister Bruckman, you didn't touch the body after you found her.
Clyde Bruckman: Why would I want to?
Scully: But you reported that you found a body with its eyes cut out. The body was face down. If you didn't move it, how did you know the eyes had been removed?
Clyde Bruckman: Well, they had been, hadn't they? Then what are you complaining about?
Mulder: How had the eyes been cut out?
Clyde Bruckman: By a piece of crystal ball, of all cockamamie things.
Mulder: We did find some crystal shards on the body, how do you know it was from a crystal ball?
Clyde Bruckman: Well, well, it just, it just figures, I mean, uh... if a guy goes to kill a fortune teller, uh, he's obviously going to assault her with her own crystal ball and, uh, use the shattered piece as a sort of lance. Isn't he?

Mulder: Pinch me.
Scully: This guy's performing the same routine as the Stupendous Yappi, he's just doing it in a different style.
Mulder: No, something told me, Scully, something is telling me this guy's for real.
Scully: Oh, so now you're psychic?

Mulder: What is it? What do you see?
Clyde Bruckman: He's having sex with her. There.
Scully: Is he raping her?
Clyde Bruckman: Oh, no, no, no, not at all. In fact, she's instigating the whole thing.
Mulder: Then what's wrong?
Clyde Bruckman: Oh... sometimes, it... it just seems that everyone's having sex except for me.

Clyde Bruckman: Come in. I knew it was you. I know why you're here. You're here because you found that woman's body where I told you it would be. And now you're convinced I have some kind of psychic power. So while your skeptical lady partner is off performing an autopsy, you came here to ask my help catching this serial murderer.
Mulder: Everything you said is correct.
Clyde Bruckman: Oh, it's you.

Mulder: But you do admit to having this gift.
Clyde Bruckman: Oh, I got it, all right. The only problem is, it's non-returnable.
Mulder: Mister Bruckman, you possess an ability that not only has staggering implications upon physics and human consciousness, but it's one which most people, myself included, would be envious of. Yet you seem to treat it with disdain.
Clyde Bruckman: Do you want to know how you're going to die?
Mulder: Y, yes, I would.
Clyde Bruckman: No, you don't.

Clyde Bruckman: How can I see the future if it didn't already exist?
Mulder: Then if the future is written, then why bother to do anything?
Clyde Bruckman: Now you're catching on.
Mulder: Mister Bruckman, I believe in your ability but not your attitude. I can't stand by and watch people die without doing everything in my, albeit unsupernatural, power to interfere with that fate.
Clyde Bruckman: Well, you see, that's another reason I can't help you catch this guy. I might adversely affect the fate of the future. I mean, his next victim might be the mother of the daughter whose son invents the time machine. Then the son goes back in time and changes world history and then Columbus never discovers America, man never lands on the moon, the U.S. never invades Grenada... or something less significant... resulting in the fact that my father never meets my mother and consequently, I'm never born. So when do we start?

Clyde Bruckman: I don't know what it is but it belonged to one of the victims.
Mulder: That's a hit. In psychical research parlance, a correct answer's a "hit," an incorrect answer's a "miss."
Clyde Bruckman: The guy who cast the mold for this will die of prostate cancer at the age of eighty-two. Hit or miss?
Mulder: I have no way of verifying that information.
Clyde Bruckman: Then why'd you ask me?
Mulder: Do you receive any other impressions from it?
Clyde Bruckman: It's ugly. Next.

Mulder: I'm now convinced of our psychic's abilities, Scully, or rather, his one ability. He is able to divine how people are going to die but that's all. He can't provide any practical information on our case.
Clyde Bruckman: I got it! This is yours. This is from your New York Knicks t-shirt!
Mulder: Miss.
Clyde Bruckman: This is worse than playing the lotto.

Scully: It was found on the woman that was pulled from the lake. Identical keychains were found on two of the other victims. I managed to trace the insignia to an investment firm called Uranus Unlimited. They provide market strategies based on astrological forecasts. And the company is owned by a man named...
Clyde Bruckman: Claude Dukenfield. Age forty-three. 316 Roundview Lane. Divorced with two children. Makes about eighty-seven thousand a year. Non-smoker.
Mulder: Is that a hit or a miss?
Scully: As far as I know, that's correct.
Mulder: You got all that information just by handling that keychain?
Clyde Bruckman: Oh, no. I sold him a policy a couple of months ago. Just a coincidence.

Mulder: How are you receiving this information about the body's location?
Clyde Bruckman: How should I know?
Mulder: I mean, are you seeing it in a vision or is it a... sensation? How do you know where to go?
Clyde Bruckman: I just know.
Mulder: But how do you know?
Clyde Bruckman: I don't know!

Clyde Bruckman: You know, there are worse ways to go, but I can't think of a more undignified way than autoerotic asphyxiation.
Mulder: Why are you telling me that?
Clyde Bruckman: Look, forget I mentioned it. It's none of my business.

Clyde Bruckman: I guess you run into a lot of dead bodies in your line of work.
Scully: You get used to it.
Clyde Bruckman: I never have. I'm not sure you're supposed to.

Mulder: Do you remember the first time you foresaw someone's death?
Clyde Bruckman: 1959.
Mulder: What happened in 1959?
Clyde Bruckman: Buddy Holly's plane crashed.
Scully: You prognosticated Buddy Holly's death?
Clyde Bruckman: Oh, God, no. Why would I want to do that? But I did have a ticket to see him perform the next night. Actually, I was a bigger fan of the Big Bopper than Buddy Holly. "Chantilly Lace," that was the song.
Mulder: I'm not following.
Clyde Bruckman: There's... the Big Bopper was not supposed to be on the plane with Buddy Holly. He won the seat from somebody else by flipping a coin for it.
Mulder: I'm still not following.
Clyde Bruckman: Imagine all the things that had to occur, not only in his life, but in everybody else's, to arrange it so on that particular night, the Big Bopper would be in a position to live or die depending on a flipping coin. I became so obsessed with that idea that I gradually became capable of seeing the specifics of everybody's death.
Scully: Well, Mister Bruckman, I'm not one who readily believes in that kind of thing and if I was, I still wouldn't believe that story.
Clyde Bruckman: I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it's true. I was a bigger fan of the Big Bopper than Buddy Holly.

Clyde Bruckman: You. He sees you. Trying to catch him.
Mulder: Where does this take place?
Clyde Bruckman: In a kitchen. You're looking around for someone. He's behind you now, but you don't know it and he's stalking towards you and... and... Oh, God!
Scully: What? What do you see?
Clyde Bruckman: He's got a knife. It's got blood on it.
Mulder: Well, why don't I see him, what am I doing?
Clyde Bruckman: You're looking down. You stepped in a pie that's fallen to the floor. The killer comes up to you and... coconut cream.
Mulder: What?
Clyde Bruckman: The pie... eh, coconut cream or, or is it lemon merengue? I don't know, it's... not sure, it's, it's hazy.
Mulder: Whatever, please continue.
Clyde Bruckman: As you're looking down, he comes up with the knife and... banana cream! Definitely banana cream.
Mulder: All right, I'm looking down at this banana cream pie and then what...
Clyde Bruckman: He sees himself coming up to you from behind...
Mulder: And? And, what does he see?
Clyde Bruckman: Oh... Nothing. They're visions of a madman.

Mulder: You got all that from this?
Clyde Bruckman: How am I supposed to get anything from this tiny little thing? This came in the mail today.
Scully: Who's it from?
Clyde Bruckman: The killer!
Mulder: "To whom it may concern. Like our lives, this is a mere formality to let you know I know that you know. Can't wait till our first meeting when I kill you. Not before you explain some things to me. First on the list, why in the world did I send you this letter? Sincerely, you know who. P.S., say 'hi' to the F.B.I. agents."
Clyde Bruckman: Hi.
Scully: He must've been at the crime scenes, seeing you with us.
Mulder: No, no, this letter is postmarked the day before Mister Bruckman joined our investigation. You're going to have to come with us, Mister Bruckman. We're got to get you out of here.
Clyde Bruckman: Look... I'll be dead before you catch this guy, no matter what you do.

Scully: It's something you haven't explained. Can you see your own end?
Clyde Bruckman: I see our end. We end up in bed together. I'm, I'm, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, I, I, I don't mean to offend you or scare you, but, uh, not here, not this bed. I, I just mean I, I see us quite clearly in bed together. You're holding me hand, uh... very tenderly and then... you're looking at me with such compassion and I feel... tears are streaming down my face. I feel so grateful. It's just a... very special moment neither of us will ever forget.
Scully: Mister Bruckman... there are hits and there are misses. And then there are misses.
Clyde Bruckman: I just call 'em as I see 'em.

Mulder: Get this, Scully. The lab analysis from the first bit of fiber that was found just came back. It's lace.
Scully: Chantilly lace?
Mulder: You know what I like.
Scully: Mulder, it's not likely that the killer was wearing anything made out of chantilly lace at the time of the murders.
Mulder: But what are the odds of the Big Bopper, "Chantilly lace..."
Scully: It's a coincidence.
Mulder: If coincidences are just coincidences, why do they feel so contrived?
Scully: That's one to pose to the psychic philosopher. Good night, Mulder.

Mulder: Am I keeping you awake?
Clyde Bruckman: I'm waiting for you to ask me another one of those psychic ability questions.
Mulder: Well, I've had dreams in my life where I had a vision and then later on, I've seen that vision in reality and then... and as a psychic, have you ever had prophetic dreams like that?
Clyde Bruckman: I have only one dream. I dream it ever night. You're not one of those people who turns everything into a sexual symbol, are you?
Mulder: No, no, I'm not a Freudian, no.
Clyde Bruckman: I'm lying naked in a field of red tulips. I'm not concerned with where I am or how I got there. I'm at peace and it's then that I realize I'm dead. My body begins to turn a greenish-white with spots of purple. Next, the insects arrive. The inevitable follows, putridity and liquescence. Before I know it, I'm nothing but bones. When I start fading to dust, I lose whatever care I still might have had about where my clothes are and as I begin to feel myself slipping away towards I know not what... I wake up. Well, good night.

Puppet: They brought you right to me, right to where I work.
Clyde Bruckman: What are the chances of that happening?
Puppet: They're astronomical! It's beyond believability.
Clyde Bruckman: But not impossibility. I mean, after all, here we are.
Puppet: It's funny how things work out sometimes, isn't it?
Clyde Bruckman: I'll say.
Puppet: So there's something I've been wanting to ask you for some time now. You've seen the things I do in the past as well as in the future.
Clyde Bruckman: They're terrible things.
Puppet: I know they are. So, tell me, please, why have I done them?
Clyde Bruckman: Don't you understand yet, son? Don't you get it? You do the things you do because you're a homicidal maniac.
Puppet: That... that does explain a lot, doesn't it? It's all starting to make sense now.
Clyde Bruckman: No. You don't kill me now.
Puppet: I don't? Why not?
Clyde Bruckman: How should I know?

Mulder: How'd you know where to find us?
Scully: I didn't. I got on the service elevator by mistake.
Mulder: Thank heaven for happenstance.

Mulder: "Miss Scully."
Scully: "My neighbor, Mrs. Lowe, passed away last night. Please see that the remains of her remains are taken care of. Would you like a dog? He's paper-trained and well-behaved, regardless of his actions last night, which you can't really blame him for."

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