Angelina Jolie Monologues

My poor child. You're like Achilles; cursed by your greatness. You must never confuse your feelings with your duties, Alexander. A king must make public gestures for the common people. You will be nineteen this summer, and the girls already say you don't like them, you like Hephastion more. I understand, it's natural for a young man. But if you go to Asia without leaving a successor you risk all.

Yes. And you would be forty. Old, and wise. Like Parmenion. And Philip's young son would be twenty. Like you, now. But raised by him. His blood. He will never give you the throne now, Alexander, never.

Three months you have been in Babylon, and leave me at the mercy of your enemies, of which you have many. Antipater: accustomed now to the power that you have given him. I must watch him grow stronger. I am certain that he communicates secretly with Parmenion, who is dangerous. But beware most of all of those closest to you. They are like snakes, and can be turned. Cassander is Antipater's son. Even Cleitus, your father's favorite. And Ptolmey. Your friend, yes, but beware of men who think too much. They blind themselves. Only Hephastion do I leave out. But all of them you make rich, while your mother and yourself you leave in generous poverty. Why won't you ever believe me? It is only a dark mind like mine that can know these secrets of the heart. For they are dark, Alexander. So dark. But in you, the son of Zeus, lies the light of the world. Your companions will be shadows in the underworld when you are a name living forever in history as the most glorious, shining light of youth. Forever young, forever inspiring. Never will there be an Alexander like you, Alexander the Great.

You are everything Phillip was not. He was coarse, you are refined. He was a general, you are a king. He could not rule himself. And you shall rule the world.

Pregnant, so soon? The little whore. He will marry her in the spring, during Dionysus' festival. And when her first son is born, her sweet Uncle Attalus will convince Phillip to name the boy his successor. And you will be sent on some impossible mission against some barbarous northern tribe, to be mutilated in one more meaningless battle. And I, no longer Queen, will be put to death with your sister and the remaining members of our family.

The only way is to strike. Announce your marriage to a Macedonian, now! Beget a child of pure blood. He would be one of them, not mine. And he would have no choice but to make you king. Eurydice was perfect! If your father, that pig, had not ravaged her first...

You're right. Forgive me. A mother loves too much.

They are like people. You can love them for years. Feed them, nurture them, but still, they can turn on you.

The world is yours. Take it!

In my womb I carried my avenger!

My little Achilles.

Making himself a thirteenth god! He's drunk so much wine, my poor Phillip, he's lost his mind.

Why won't you ever believe me? Philip did not want you! You had a condition of the breathing and he wanted to leave you in the mountains for the birds to peck out your eyes!

I was never a barbarian as Phillip said. We are of Achilles' royal blood.

So many wanted it. Greeks, Persians, men, women, I would be shocked if there were not a god or two he had profaned.

If you hesitate, she will strike.

Women are the only ones who know Dionysus.

You know, there's too many buttons in the world. There's too many buttons and they're just - There's way too many just begging to be pressed, they're just begging to be pressed, you know? They're just - they're just begging to be pressed, and it makes me wonder, it really makes me fucking wonder, why doesn't anyone ever press mine? Why am I so neglected? Why doesn't anyone reach in and rip out the truth and tell me that I'm a fucking whore, or that my parents wish I were dead?

Razors pain you, rivers are damp / Acid stains you, drugs cause cramps / Gun aren't lawful, nooses give / Gas smells awful, you might as well live.

I'm playing the villain, baby, just like you want. I try to give you everything you want.

You wanted your file, I found you your file. You wanted out, I got you out. You needed money, I found you some. I'm fucking consistent - I told you the truth - I didn't write it down in a fucking book! I told you to your face. And I told Daisy to her face - what everybody knew and wouldn't say, and she killed herself. And I played the fucking villain, just like you wanted.

Because it makes you the good guy, sweet pea. You come back all sweetness and light, and sad and contrite, and everybody congratulating you on your bravery. And meanwhile, I'm blowing the guys at the bus station for the money that was in her fucking robe!

They didn't release you 'cause you're better, Daisy, they just gave up. You call this a life, hmm? Taking Daddy's money, buying your dollies and your knick-knacks. And eating his fucking chicken, fattening up like a prize fucking heifer? You changed the scenery, but not the fucking situation - and the warden makes house calls. And everybody knows. Everybody knows. That he fucks you. What they don't know… is that you like it. Hmm? You like it.

Hey man, it's cool, it's okay. It's fine, it's fucking fine! A man is a dick is a man is a dick is a chicken… is a dad… a Valium, a speculum, whatever, whatever.

All you have is mustard and your chickens! I am going to be the Cinderella at Walt Disney's new theme park, Susanna's gonna be Snow White. You can come if you want. You can be the Cocker Spaniel that eats spaghetti.

You think you're free? I'm free! You don't know what freedom is! I'm free! I can breathe! And you... you're gonna choke on your average fucking mediocre life!

What needs to happen? No one's ever gonna' kiss her, man. You know, they're building a new Disneyland in Florida. If I could have any job in the world, I'd be a professional Cinderella. You could be Snow White. And Polly could be Minnie Mouse. Everyone would hug her and kiss her and love her and no one would ever know what was in that big ol' head of hers, you know?

Yeah, well that's what ther-rape-me's all about. That's why fuckin' Freud's picture's on every shrink's wall. He created a fuckin' industry. You lie down, you confess your secrets and you're saved. Ca-ching! The more you confess, the more they think about settin' you free.

Help me understand, Dais 'cause, I thought you didn't do Valium. Tell me how this safety net is working for you. Tell me that you don't take that blade and drag it across your skin and pray for the courage to press down. Tell me how your *daddy* helps you cope with that. Illuminate me.

Bald guy with a little pecker and a fat wife. You're ther-rapist, sweet pea. Unless, ah… unless they're givin' you shocks. Or, God forbid lettin' you out. Then you get to see the great wonderful Dr. Dyke.

Alright, listen. Tongue your meds tonight. After o'clock checks, Gretta always goes out for a smoke. Check the mirrors and if they're clear, you go to Hector's closet. It's near the art room and it will be open.

We have to go. We have money... Susanna, don't be stupid. Alright, fine. Be stupid.