Colin Firth Monologues

Dear Mr. Nagase, the war has been over for many years. I have suffered much, but I know you have suffered, too. And you have been most courageous, and brave in working for reconciliation. While I cannot forget what happened in Kanchanaburi, I assure you of my total forgiveness. Sometime the hating has to stop.

At the beginning of time, the clock struck one. A drop of dew, and the clock struck two. From the dew grew a tree, and the clock struck three. Then the tree made a door, and the clock struck four. Then man came alive, And the clock struck five. Count not, waste not, the hours of the clock. Behold I stand at the door and knock.

You know, with all due respect to your friend, if all he mentioned is vodka, he's really only scratched the surface of Warrington.

the Black Prince? Remember the Black Prince? Had all his armour made there. Warrington was really the only place to go if you wanted a suit of armour. Sort of Saville Row in steel

My mother was already dead, as it happens. All through the war, I wrote letters home to a dead woman.

Nor do we. And you know why? Because no one would believe it. No one would believe what you did to us. You treated us like animals because we surrendered.

I you'd been here, you'd have caused quite the stir.

The surgeon said his brain was filled with tumors. A myriad of tumors. That's the word he used, "myriad". I think Tom would like that. There's nothing they can do, you see. The doctor said it was a matter of weeks. Might regain consciousness, most likely not.

No, you stay with Nancy. You stay with Nancy. You should, you know, prepare her. She always loved Tom the most. The plural of "myriad" is "myriads", by the way.

God help anyone who loves you, Tom. Because for all your talk and all your millions of beautiful words, you haven't the slightest idea of what it means to be alive. To look into another person's eyes and ache for him. I hope someday you will. And then maybe all your words will be worth five of Scott's.

Imagine you're a reader. You're wandering through a bookstore and lots of books, and you see a book titled "Trimalchio in West Egg" and you see one titled The "Great Gatsby."Which are you going to pick up?

That's why Scott changed his original title. He knew it needed a bit more meat.

Suicide seems a bit extreme and killing Tom won't help much, so I suppose that leaves me.

That was nothing personal, George. You have to understand. Karla said that you were good; the one we had to worry about. If I were to known as Ann's lover, he'd figure that you wouldn't be able to see me straight. And he was right, up to a point…

As I said, you may fuck me but you still have to call me "Sir" in the morning.

Well, I'm not bloody chaining it up outside. Mind you, probably no better off in here with this bunch of bloody cut-throats, they'll have the gold out of your teeth!

I thought I'd pop down and catch a glimpse at the new girl before Bland gets to her.

You really are a poison dwarf, Toby. Why don't you fuck off to his majesty and stop trying to involve me in your little cabaret.

A few times in my life I've had moments of absolute clarity, when for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think, and things seem so sharp. And the world seems so fresh as though it had all just come into existence. I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, they fade. I have lived my life on these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realize that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be.

Let's leave the Jews out of this just for a moment. Let's think of another minority. One that… One that can go unnoticed if it needs to. There are all sorts of minorities, blondes for example… Or people with freckles. But a minority is only thought of as one when it constitutes some kind of threat to the majority. A real threat or an imagined one. And therein lies the fear. If the minority is somehow invisible, then the fear is much greater. That fear is why the minority is persecuted. So, you see there always is a cause. The cause is fear. Minorities are just people. People like us.

You know that only thing that has made the whole thing worthwhile has been those few times that I was able to truly connect with another person.

If one is not enjoying one's present, there isn't a great deal to suggest that the future should be any better.

It takes time in the morning for me to become George, time to adjust to what is expected of George and how he is to behave. By the time I have dressed and put the final layer of polish on the now slightly stiff but quite perfect George I know fully what part I'm supposed to play.

I always used to tell him that only fools could possibly escape the simple truth that now isn't simply now: it's a cold reminder. One day later than yesterday, one year later than last year, and that sooner or later it will come.

Waking up begins with saying am and now. For the past eight months waking up has actually hurt. The cold realization that I am still here slowly sets in.

For the first time in my life I can't see my future. Every day goes by in a haze, but today I have decided will be different.

Looking in the mirror staring back at me isn't so much a face as the expression of a predicament.

It's all becoming so bland. That's not why I came to America. It's like a complete breakdown of culture and manners.

Go to London. Change your life. And if you're not happy being a woman, stop acting like one.

Let's leave the Jews out of this just for a moment and think of another minority, one that can go unnoticed if it has to.

There's no such thing as old anymore. The other day, one of my students called me a senior citizen.

I can't forgive you, only God can forgive you.

When the heart rules the head, disaster follows.

You're born, you commit no crime, and then you're sentenced to death.

All my optimism was an illusion.

I came to say that for some inexplicable reason that defies common sense and human understanding, that I have, of late, experienced some small... quite small but discernible, inner stirrings regarding your smile.

I have irrational positive feelings for Sophie Baker.

The comparison makes me laugh! Olivia is a person of accomplishment and charm. Sophie's a street finagler who makes her way living off one bit of hokum to the next.

Of course, she does come from dire circumstances. I mean, it's very easy to be judgmental about people who are born into circumstances less fortunate than one's own.

Well put. And people do sometimes make the wrong choices, which they regret, even though no serious harm was done.

I came to say, that for some inexplicable reason that defines common sense and human understanding, that I have of late experienced some small... quite small, but discernible, inner stirrings regarding your smile.

And possessing a soul which is large and capable of complexity, as all great minds are, I have decided to forgive you and take you under my wing.

It's a saying. Obviously, I don't have wings. I only mean that, incredible as it sounds, and this is no small gesture, given the time wasted and the public embarrassment you've caused me, that I'm willing to take you back.

Live dangerously, I say. You only live once. Or maybe two or three times, depending on your supply of ectoplasm.

Happiness is not the natural human condition.

We all hope someone will come along with superpowers, but the only superpower certain to show up wears a black robe.

As depressing as the facts of existence are, they are the facts. There is no metaphysical world. What you see out there is what you get. I think Mr. Nietzsche has disposed of the God matter rather convincingly.

y aunt, whom I love, is in mortal danger. And so, I ask you… I ask you… Wait a minute. This is the stupidest load of twaddle I have ever heard.

There is no 'real thing', Howard! It's all phony! From the séance table to the Vatican and beyond!

I don't understand. Is the conductor a blithering idiot? He went over the tempo six times. It's Adagio, Adagio, Adagio! It's not racehorse tempo.

I view your behavior as a great man views the malicious mischief of... what shall we say, pygmy?

I'm a Catholic whore, currently enjoying congress out of wedlock with my black Jewish boyfriend who works at a military abortion clinic. So, hail Satan, and have a lovely afternoon, madam.

There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.

"Manners maketh man." Do you know what that means? Then let me teach you a lesson.

She didn't drown. She works in our tech department in Berlin. She's fine. Limits must be tested. A Kingsman only condones the risking of one life to save another.

I see a young man with potential. A young man who is loyal. Who can do as he is asked, and who wants to do something good with his life. Did you see the film 'Trading Places'?

Since 1849, Kingsman Tailors have clothed the world's most powerful individuals. In 1919, a great number of them had lost their heirs to World War I. That meant a lot of money going uninherited. And a lot of powerful men with the desire to preserve peace and protect life. Our founders realized that they could channel that wealth and influence for the greater good. And so began our adventure. An independent international intelligence agency operating at the highest level of discretion. Without the politics and bureaucracy that undermine the intelligence of government-run spy organisations. A suit is the modern gentleman's armour. And the Kingsman agents are the new knights.

These, you're familiar with. And this is our standard issue pistol. It's quite unique. As you all see it, it also fires a shotgun cartridge for use in messy close-range situations. How do they feel?

Um, listen, boys. I've had a rather emotional day, so whatever your beef with Eggsy is - and I'm sure it's well founded - I'd appreciate it enormously if you could just leave us in peace, until I can finish this lovely pint of Guinness.

The point is, Eggsy, nobody thanked me for any of them. Front page news and all these occasions are celebrity nonsense. Because it's the nature of Kingsman that our achievements remain secret. A gentleman's name should appear in the newspaper only three times: When he's born, when he marries, and when he dies. And we are, first and foremost, gentlemen.

I sometimes envy the blissful ignorance of those less well-versed in their… 'shit'. As Professor Arnold always said: 'Humankind is the only virus cursed to live with the horrifying knowledge of its host's fragile mortality.'

Seventeen years and still evolving with the times remains an entirely foreign concept to you. You don't remind me that I wouldn't be here if it weren't for that young man. He was as much Kingsman material as any of them. More so.

The day your father died, I missed something. And if it weren't for his courage, my mistake would have cost the lives of every man present. So I owe him. Your father was a brave man. A good man. And having read your files, I'd think he'd be bitterly disappointed in the choices you've made.

Doesn't explain why you gave up your hobbies. First prize, regional under tens' gymnastics, two years in a row. Your coach had you pegged as Olympic team material.

Now, I've had a lot of fun with this. One of our finest examples of chemical engineering. Poison. Harmless when ingested. But at a time, convenient to you...

I very much regret that your husband's bravery can't be publicly celebrated. I hope you understand that.

I'm so sorry I can't say more. I would like to present to you this medal of valour. If you look closely on the back, there's a number. And as a more concrete gesture of gratitude, we'd like to offer you a… Let's call it a favour. The nature of it is your choice. Just tell the operator: 'Oxfords, not Brogues.' And then they'll know it's you.