I cannot believe you just said that. What kind of a world is this? Are you an animal? Do you know what Macbeth is about? I'll tell you. It's a play about the numbing of the moral sense. I tell Ryan that we have nothing to go on in this case. You know what he says to me? "Win some, lose some." You're a racist, Ryan. Did you know that?
On the entrance exam for new policemen, they ask, "What are rabies and what would you do for them?" Ryan said, "Rabies are Jewish priests and I would do anything I possible could for them."
I was signaling beings on Mars. Sometimes they answer.
My wife's mother is visiting, Father. And Tuesday night, she's cooking us a carp. It's a tasty fish, I've got nothing against it. But, because it's supposedly filled with impurities, she buys it live and for three days, it's been swimming... up and down... in my bathtub. Up and down... and I hate it. I can't stand the sight of it, moving its gills. Now, you're standing very close to me, Father; have you noticed? Yes. I haven't had a bath for three days. I can't go home until the carp is asleep because if I see it, swimming... I'll kill it.
This I believe... I believe in death. I believe in disease. I believe in injustice, and inhumanity, and torture, and anger, and hate. I believe in murder. I believe in pain. I believe in cruelty, and infidelity. I believe in slime, and stink, and in every crawling, putrid thing, every possible ugliness and corruption, YOU SON OF A BITCH! I BELIEVE... in you.
Jesus loves you, everyone else thinks you're an asshole.
I've been standing out there for centuries. Four new popes have been elected. That's a lot of white smoke.
I once spent a year hearing childrens's confessions and I wound up a lemon drop junkie. The little wierdos keep breathing it on you along with all that pot. And between the two of them, I've got a feeling it's probably addictive.
Did you get my message? I left it with Keating. Nice girl. Good heart.
I like plays. The good ones. Shakespeare... I like Titus Andronicus the best - it's sweet. Incidentally, did you know that you are talking to an artist? I sometimes do special things to my victims: things that are creative. Of course, it takes knowledge, pride in your work. For example, a decapitated head can continue to see for approximately twenty seconds. So when I have one that's gawking, I always hold it up so that it can see its body. It's a little extra I throw in for no added charge. I must admit it makes me chuckle every time. Life is fun. It's a wonderful life, in fact, for some. It's too bad about poor Father Dyer. I killed him, you know. An interesting problem, but finally, it worked! First, a bit of the old succinylcholine to permit one to work without, ah, annoying distractions. Then, a three foot catheter threaded directly into the inferior vena cava -- or, superior vena cava. It's a matter of taste, I think, don't you? Then the tube moves through the vein, under the crease of the arm, into the vein that leads directly into the heart, and then, you just hold up the legs, and you squeeze the blood manually into the tube from the arms and the legs. There's a little shaking and pounding at the end for the dregs - it isn't perfect. There's a little blood left, I'm afraid. But, regardless, the overall effect is astonishing! And isn't that really what counts in the end? Yes, of course, Good Show Biz, Lieutenant, the EFFECT! And then, off comes the head without spilling one single drop of blood. Now I call that SHOWMANSHIP, Lieutenant!
Yes, about this body of mine. Friend of yours. Well, there I was so awfully dead in that electric chair. I didn't like it. Would you? It's upsetting. There was still so much killing to do, and there I was, in the void, without a body. But then along came, well, you know, my friend. One of them. Those others over there. The cruel ones, the Master. And he thought that my work should continue. But in this body, in this body in particular, in fact. Ooooh, let's call it revenge. The certain matter of an exorcism I think Father Karras expelled certain parties from the body of a child. Certain parties were not pleased. To say the least. To say the very least. And so my friend, the Master, devised this pretty little scheme as a way of getting back. Of creating a stumbling block. A scandal. A horror to the eyes of all men who seek faith, using the body of this saintly priest as an instrument of... well, you know my work. But the main thing... is the torment of your friend, Father Karras, as he watches while I rip, and cut, and MUTILATE THE INNOCENT! His friends! And again! AND AGAIN! AND ON AND ON! HE IS INSIDE WITH US! HE WILL NEVER GET AWAY! HIS PAIN WON'T END! Oh, gracious me. Was I raving? Please forgive me. I'm mad...
Where was I? Oh, yes. The Master. He was kind, you see. He brought me to our mutual acquaintance Father Karras. Not to well at the time. I'm afraid he was, passing on in the dying mode, as we say. So, as Karras was about to slip out of his body-- is this true? The Master was slipping me in. Oh, now there was some confusion when the medic said that Karras was dead-- I mean, he was dead, technically speaking. I mean, his time was up. He wanted out. But I was in! A little traumatized, true. I mean, after all, his brain were jelly. Lack of oxygen, and all that sort of thing. You understand? It took a maximum effort that at last got me out of that cheap little coffin. Vow of poverty, disgusting. Never mind. Toward the end, a slapstick comic relief. When that old Brother Faine, who was tending the bodies, saw me climbing from the coffin. [laughs] It's the smiles that keep us going. Don't you think? The little giggles and bits of good cheer.