Mine is a silly one but one i always come back to. It's a bit funnier when you read it.
From Austin Powers (1997) The scene where Dr. Evil and his son Scott are in therapy and Dr. Evil tells about his childhood.
"Dr Evil: Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it. Therapist: You know, we have to stop."
It's ridiculous but at the same time so well thought out.
"Now you listen to me. While I will admit to a certain cynicism, the fact is that I am a naysayer and hatchetman in the fight against violence. I pride myself in taking a punch and I'll gladly take another because I choose to live my life in the company of Gandhi and King. My concerns are global. I reject absolutely revenge, aggression, and retaliation. The foundation of such a method... is love. I love you Sheriff Truman."
"All worlds begin in darkness, and all so end. The heart is no different, darkness sprouts within it, it grows, consumes it, such is its nature... In the end, EVERY heart returns to the darkness from whence it came! For you see, darkness is the heart's, truest, essence..."
As God is my witness, as God is my witness, they're not going to lick me! I'm going to live through this, and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again - no, nor any of my folks! If I have to lie, steal, cheat, or kill, as God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again. - Scarlett O'Hara
Best villain of the whole show, which is why the first and second season were also the best.
Here is another great speech from an earlier episode:
"You see that building? *gestures to an image of the White House* It was once the seat of power for the entire world. It stood tall in a shining city on a hill where so-called enlightened men promised their citizens a bright future. A future where impossible dreams could become reality. We live in a husk of a world left to us by these enlightened men. You don’t fix it by running. You do it by fighting."
"This is what I'm talking about. This is what I mean when I'm talkin' about time, and death, and futility. All right there are broader ideas at work, mainly what is owed between us as a society for our mutual illusions. Fourteen straight hours of staring at DB's, these are the things ya think of. You ever done that? You look in their eyes, even in a picture, doesn't matter if they're dead or alive, you can still read 'em. You know what you see? They welcomed it... not at first, but... right there in the last instant. It's an unmistakable relief. See, cause they were afraid, and now they saw for the very first time how easy it was to just... let go. Yeah they saw, in that last nanosecond, they saw... what they were. You, yourself, this whole big drama, it was never more than a jerry-rig of presumption and dumb will, and you could just let go. To finally know that you didn't have to hold on so tight. To realize that all your life--you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memories, all your pain--it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room, a dream about being a person. And like a lot of dreams, there's a monster at the end of it."
Milus wrote great antagonists:
"What I despise most about warfare, is the hypocrisy it often breeds. I've heard euphemisms that we are 'containing the enemy', that our 'sector of pacification is growing'. These are the tactics of the lie. Lies have the stench of death and defeat. You can only win a war by exterminating the enemy! Do you know who we are fighting? [points to board] We are fighting Wolverines: small, ferocious animals. For them, you need a hunter. And you know, I am a hunter. From this moment on, there will be no further reprisals against civilians. This was stupid. Impotence. Comrades, if a fox stole your chickens, would you slaughter your pig because he saw the fox? No! You would hunt down the fox, find where it lives and destroy it! How do we do this? Become a fox."
"Yes! You know what it is, don't you, boy? Shall I tell you? It's the least I can do. Steel isn't strong boy, flesh is stronger! Look around you. There, on the rocks; that beautiful girl.
[Points to a teenaged girl on a nearby cliff]
Come to me, my child.
[Beckons to her][The acolyte plunges from the rock to her death.]
That is strength, boy! That is power! The strength and power of flesh! What is steel, compared to the hand that wields it? Look at the strength in your body, the desire in your heart, I gave you this! Such a waste. Contemplate this on the Tree of Woe. Crucify him!"
You also can't go wrong with the Indianapolis monologue from Jaws, which is half Milius.
Omar Little: Shoot, the way y'all looking at things, ain't no victim to even speak on.
Det. William 'Bunk' Moreland: Bullshit, boy. No victim? I just came from Tosha's people, remember? All this death, you don't think it ripples out? You don't even know what the fuck I'm talking about. I was a few years ahead of you at Edmondson, but I know you remember the neighborhood, how it was. We had some bad boys, for real. Wasn't about guns so much as knowing what to do with your hands. Those boys could really rack. My father had me on the straight, but like any young man, I wanted to be hard too, so I'd turn up at all the house parties where the tough boys hung. Shit, they knew I wasn't one of them. Them hard cases would come up to me and say, "Go home, schoolboy, you don't belong here." Didn't realize at the time what they were doing for me. As rough as that neighborhood could be, we had us a community. Nobody, no victim, who didn't matter. And now all we got is bodies, and predatory motherfuckers like you. And out where that girl fell, I saw kids acting like Omar, calling you by name, glorifying your ass. Makes me sick, motherfucker, how far we done fell.
"I want you to be yourself. You know, I'll tell you, boy. Guilt - it's like a bag of fuckin' bricks. All you gotta do is set it down....Who are you carrying all those bricks for anyway? God? Is that it? God? Well, I tell ya, let me give you a little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He's a prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts. He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do? I swear, for His own amusement, His own private cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in opposition. It's the goof of all time. Look, but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste. Taste, don't swallow. Aha ha ha. And while you're jumpin' from one foot to the next, what is He doin'? He's laughin' His sick, fuckin' ass off. He's a tight-ass. He's a sadist. He's an absentee landlord. Worship that? Never!"
"Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven, is that it?"
"Why not? I'm here on the ground with my nose in it since the whole thing began! (screaming) I've nurtured every sensation man has been inspired to have! I cared about what he wanted and I never judged him. Why? Because I never rejected him, in spite of all his imperfections! I'm a fan of man! I'm a humanist. Maybe the last humanist. Who, in their right mind, Kevin, could possibly deny the 20th century was entirely mine? All of it, Kevin! All of it! Mine! I'm peaking, Kevin. It's my time now. It's our time."
Not the most famous one from the play, but I loved this bit from A Man for All Seasons:
"If we lived in a State where virtue was profitable, common sense would make us good, and greed would make us saintly. And we'd live like animals or angels in the happy land that needs no heroes. But since in fact we see that avarice, anger, envy, pride, sloth, lust and stupidity commonly profit far beyond humility, chastity, fortitude, justice and thought, and have to choose, to be human at all... why then perhaps we must stand fast a little --even at the risk of being heroes.”
Technically I guess it's a conversation, but I loved quite a few from the old Netflix Daredevil show. I spoiled a second one below, and a bit from To Kill a Mockingbird about addiction that I've always loved.
Matt: Do you believe in the Devil, Father?
Lantom: You mean... as a concept?
Matt: No. Do you believe he exists? In this world, among us.
Lantom: You want the short answer or the long one?
Matt: Just the truth.
Lantom: When I was in seminary I was more studious than pious, more skeptical than most of my peers. I had this notion which I was more than willing to speak about, at length, to whoever I could corner, that the Devil was inconsequential. Minor figure in the grand scheme.
Matt: Not very Catholic of you.
Lantom: Uh-huh, yeah. In my defense, in the scriptures, the Hebrew word "Satan" actually means "adversary." It's applied to any antagonist. Angels and humans, serpents and kings. Medieval theologians reinterpreted those passages to be about a single monstrous enemy. And, in my youthful zeal, I was certain I knew why: propaganda. Played up to drive people into the church.
Matt: So you don't believe he exists.
Lantom: Am I done talking?
Matt: Sorry.
Lantom: Years later, I was in Rwanda trying to help local churches provide aid and sanctuary to refugees. I'd become close with the village elder, Gahiji. He and his family had the respect of everybody, Hutu and Tutsi alike. He'd helped them all through famines, disease. The militia liked to force Hutu villagers to murder their neighbors with machetes. But nobody would raise a hand against Gahiji. They said, "Well how can we kill such a holy man?" So the militia commander sent soldiers with orders to cut his head off in front of the entire village. Gahiji didn't try to put up a fight. Just asked for the chance to say goodbye to his family. By the time he was done, even the soldiers didn't wanna kill him. So they went to their commander and asked permission to shoot him. At least give him a quick death. The commander wanted to meet this man who had won the respect of so many. He went to Gahiji. Talked with him in his hut for many hours. Then he dragged him out in front of his village and hacked him to pieces along with his entire family. In that man who took Gahiji's life, I saw the Devil. So yes, Matthew. I believe he walks among us, taking many forms.
Matt: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, forgive me if I seem distracted. I've been preoccupied of late with, uh, questions of morality. Of right and wrong, good and evil. Sometimes the delineation between the two is a sharp line. Sometimes it's a blur, and often it's like pornography: you just know when you see it. A man is dead. I don't mean to make light of that, but these questions... these questions are vital ones because they tether us to each other, to humanity. Not everyone feels this way. Not everyone sees the sharp line, only the blur. A man is dead. Um, a man is dead. And my client, John Healy, took his life. This is not in dispute. It is a matter of record, of fact, and facts have no moral judgment. They merely state what is. Not what we think of them, not what we feel. They just are. What was in my client's heart when he took Mr. Prohaszka's life, whether he is a good man or something else entirely, is irrelevant. These questions of good and evil, as important as they are, have no place in a court of law. Only the facts matter. My client claims he acted in self-defense. Mr. Prohaszka's associates have refused to make a statement regarding the incident. The only other witness, a frightened young woman, has stated that my client was pleasant and friendly, and that she only saw the struggle with Mr. Prohaszka after it had started. Those are the facts. Based on these and these alone, the prosecution has failed to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that my client was not acting solely in self-defense. And those, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, are the facts. My client, based purely on the sanctity of the law which we've all sworn an oath to uphold, must be acquitted of these charges. Now, beyond that, beyond these walls... he may well face a judgement of his own making. But here, in this courtroom, the judgement is yours and yours alone.
“Well is right,” said Atticus. “She’s not suffering any more. She was sick for a long time. Son, didn’t you know what her fits were?” Jem shook his head.
“Mrs. Dubose was a morphine addict,” said Atticus. “She took it as a pain-killer for years. The doctor put her on it. She’d have spent the rest of her life on it and died without so much agony, but she was too contrary—”
“Sir?” said Jem.
Atticus said, “Just before your escapade she called me to make her will. Dr. Reynolds told her she had only a few months left. Her business affairs were in perfect order but she said, ‘There’s still one thing out of order.’”
“What was that?” Jem was perplexed.
“She said she was going to leave this world beholden to nothing and nobody. Jem, when you’re sick as she was, it’s all right to take anything to make it easier, but it wasn’t all right for her. She said she meant to break herself of it before she died, and that’s what she did.”
Jem said, “You mean that’s what her fits were?”
“Yes, that’s what they were. Most of the time you were reading to her I doubt if she heard a word you said. Her whole mind and body were concentrated on that alarm clock. If you hadn’t fallen into her hands, I’d have made you go read to her anyway. It may have been some distraction. There was another reason—”
“Did she die free?” asked Jem.
“As the mountain air,” said Atticus. “She was conscious to the last, almost. Conscious,” he smiled, “and cantankerous. She still disapproved heartily of my doings, and said I’d probably spend the rest of my life bailing you out of jail. She had Jessie fix you this box—” Atticus reached down and picked up the candy box. He handed it to Jem.
Jem opened the box. Inside, surrounded by wads of damp cotton, was a white, waxy, perfect camellia. It was a Snow-on-the-Mountain.
Jem’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Old hell-devil, old hell-devil!” he screamed, flinging it down. “Why can’t she leave me alone?”
In a flash Atticus was up and standing over him. Jem buried his face in Atticus’s shirt front. “Sh-h,” he said. “I think that was her way of telling you—everything’s all right now, Jem, everything’s all right. You know, she was a great lady.”
“A lady?” Jem raised his head. His face was scarlet. “After all those things she said about you, a lady?”
“She was. She had her own views about things, a lot different from mine, maybe… son, I told you that if you hadn’t lost your head I’d have made you go read to her. I wanted you to see something about her—I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do. Mrs. Dubose won, all ninety-eight pounds of her. According to her views, she died beholden to nothing and nobody. She was the bravest person I ever knew.”
Jem picked up the candy box and threw it in the fire. He picked up the camellia, and when I went off to bed I saw him fingering the wide petals. Atticus was reading the paper.
Still hold ups 20 years later, wish the rest of the movie was this good.
Speaking of a movie that has no right to be as good as it was based on the source material, the budget, the acting, this scene hits hard as I get older, and is probably one of the best written parts in it.
"There comes a time thief, when the jewels cease to sparkle, when the gold loses it's luster, when the throne room becomes a prison, and all that is left is a fathers love for his child"
"I've been alive a bit longer than you. And dead a lot longer than that. I've seen things you couldn't imagine. And done things I'd prefer you didn't... Don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes. A lot of wrong bloody calls. A hundred plus years. And there's only one thing I've ever been sure of. You... Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I say I love you, it's not because I want you. Or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you *are*. What you do. How you try... I've seen your kindness, and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand, with perfect clarity, exactly what you are... You're a *hell* of a woman... You're the One, Buffy."
