Matt Damon Monologues

A shoe is just a shoe until someone steps into it.

Forget about the shoes, forget about the money. You're going to make enough money, it's not going to matter. Money can buy you almost anything, it can't buy you immortality. That, you have to earn. I'm going to look you in the eyes and I'm gonna tell you the future. You were cut from your high school basketball team. You willed your way to the NBA. You're gonna win championships. It's an American story, and that's why Americans are gonna love it. People are going to build you up, and God are they going to, because when you're great and new, we love you. Man, we'll build you up into something that doesn't even exist. You're going to change the fucking world. But you know what? Once they've built you as high as they possibly can, they're gonna tear you back down - it's the most predictable pattern. We build you into something that doesn't exist, and that means you have to try to be that thing all day, every day. That's how it works. And we do it again, and again, and again. And I'm going to tell you the truth. You're going to be attacked, betrayed, exposed and humiliated. And you'd survive that. A lot of people can climb that mountain. It's the way down that breaks them, 'cause that's the moment when you are truly alone. And what would you do then? Can you summon the will to fight on, through all the pain, and rise again? Who are you Michael? That will be the defining question of your life. And I think you already know the answer, and that's why we're all here. A shoe is just a shoe until somebody steps into it. Then it has meaning. The rest of us just want a chance to touch that greatness. We need you in these shoes not so you have meaning in your life, but so that we have meaning in ours. Everyone at this table will be forgotten as soon as our time here is up - except for you. You're gonna be remembered forever, because some things are eternal. You're Michael Jordan, and your story is gonna make us want to fly.

When polar bears hunt, they crouch down by a hole in the ice and wait for a seal to pop up. They keep one paw over their nose so that they blend in, because they've got those black noses. They'd blend in perfectly if not for the nose. So the question is, how do they know their noses are black? From looking at other polar bears? Do they see their reflections in the water and think, "I'd be invisible if not for that." That seems like a lot of thinking for a bear.

There are these butterflies in Central America. They're blue and orange and yellow and have poison in their wings,just enough to stop a bird heart. But the birds know this somehow, so they don't eat them. But there are other ones, butterflies, they're orange, blue and yellow too but no poison wings. They're just flying around, looking dangerous, getting by on their looks.

I've been to Tokyo. They sell little-girl underwear in the vending machines right on the main drag, the Ginza, or whatever. Guys in suits buying used girl panties. How is that okay? That's not okay.

Who'd make up someone named Regina? It's the capital of Saskatchewan.

We took the kids one year to the Renaissance Festival in Indiana. You get to be the White Knight. The kids get to ride a horse and joust against the forces of darkness with a helmet on. And the White Knight always wins - the forces of darkness fall onto an old mattress. Someone plays a Lute and plays a song from Medieval Times. The day we went it was maybe 90 degrees out and the heat and humidity index I can't even remember what the radio said. We were next in line and the mare collapsed. Went down in a heap. Ginger was eating Ye Olde Drumstick and she dropped it in the dirt. The kids were crying. I remember this farmer saying he had a gun in his truck. Just like that. From the White Knight to a gun in the truck. They had everyone turn their backs before they put the animal down, but even if you couldn't see you could still hear. How do you get that back? How does that get to be fair?

The liter bottle is the only thing that caught on because it's a nicer word, "liter" then "quart". Quart. Quart.

I read this study in Time magazine when I was at Cornell, which is an Ivy League school, and there were people, including my mother, who never believed I would make it into an Ivy League school. Maybe Ginger, who I met in marching in the eighth grade. And the study said people had nice, sympathetic feelings about people who were adopted, and treated them better. So I made up this adoption story, and people *did* treat me better. And when I got a job, one of my professors told people at Ralston Purina that I was this amazing guy that had accomplished all this in spite of being adopted. And so it was really *other* people who spread the story, not me. Although I admit it was wrong to start it and everything, it was other people who kept it going, even the people at ADM.

What if I just put out some hypotheticals. I'll talk about certain financial situations, and you guys can tell me if they're wrong, or how serious they might be. Okay, for instance, what if a company gave an executive a car, you know, a corporate car, and instead of driving that to work, he used his personal car, and gave his company car to his daughter. That be a problem?

What's the German word for "corn?" The word in German I really like is kugelschreiber. That's "pen." All those syllables just for "pen."

I don't like wool on skin. Not even that merino wool they have at Marshall Field in Chicago. Ginger likes it because it's formfitting, but she likes avocados. And who wants that texture in their mouth?

You know that orange juice you have every morning? You know what's in that? Corn. And you know what's in the maple syrup you put on your pancakes? You know what makes it taste so good? Corn. And when you're good and help with the trash, you know what makes the big, green bags biodegradable?

One of the Japanese guys told me a story. This lysine salesman is in a meeting with someone from ConAgra or some other company, I don't know. And the client leans forward and says "I have the same tie as you, only the pattern is reversed." And then he drops dead, face down on the table. Alive and then dead. Brain aneurism. Maybe everyone has a sentence like that, a little time bomb. "I have the same tie as you, only the pattern's reversed." Dead. The last thing they'll ever say.

Archer Daniels Midland. Most people have never head of us, but chances are, they've never had a meal we're not a part of. Just read the side of the package. That's us. Now ADM is taking dextrose from the corn and turning it into an amino acid called lysine. It's all very scientific, but if you're a stockholder, all that matters is corn goes in one end and profit comes out the other.

Paranoid is what people who are trying to take advantage of you call you to get you to drop your guard!

It's not just lysine. It's citric. It's gluconate. There was a guy who left the company because he wouldn't do it. He was forced out. The gluconate guy, he's out of a job.

There should be a tv show about a guy who calls home one day and he's there, he answers, he's talking to himself, only he's someone else. He's somehow divided into two, and the second one of him drives away and the rest of the show is about him trying to find the guy.

What do they pay Kirk? What does a guy like that get? I bet he gets a hundred grand. He's just gonna sit behind that desk and ride it into the future.

This would be a great place for some outlet stores. People would come from all over southern Illinois, probably Missouri too. Famous name-brand labels and appliances at saving of up to 50 percent every day. Maybe a food court with a Mexican place. The birds eat the bugs, the cars eat the birds, the rust eats the cars, and the new construction eats the rust.

I, I never made any tapes because there are not gonna be anything on the tapes because it's over and they'd just be stupid tapes!

What's the difference between a lawyer and a hooker? A hooker'll stop screwing you when you're dead.

How do you know when a lawyer is lying? When his lips are moving.

In my first year of law school everybody loved everybody else, 'cause we were all studying the law, and the law was a noble thing. By my third year you were lucky if you weren't murdered in your sleep. People stole exams, hid research materials from the library, and lied to the professors. Such is the nature of the profession.

My dad hated lawyers. You might think I became one just to piss him off, but you'd be wrong. Did piss him off so much though that when he heard he fell off a ladder and didn't know who to sue first.

There's gotta be a hundred years of law experience sitting at this very table. My staff has flunked the bar exam six times.

Sworn in by a fool and vouched for by a scoundrel. I'm a lawyer at last.

My father hated lawyers all his life. He wasn't a great guy, my old man. He drank and beat up my mother; he beat me up too. So you might think I became a lawyer just to piss him off. But you'd be wrong. I wanted to be a lawyer ever since I read about the Civil Rights lawyers in the 50s and 60s, and the amazing uses they found for the law. They did what a lot of people thought was the impossible. They gave lawyers a good name. And so I went to law school. And it did piss my father off - he was pissed off anyway.

I knew exactly what was going on here. Just like when Daddy was in the bedroom crying and Mommy was sitting in the kitchen, face all bloody, saying that Daddy was sorry.

I'm hot. In fact, I'm so hot, there's no place for me to go but down. Every client I ever have will expect the same magic, nothing less. I could probably give it to them, if it didn't matter how I did it. Then I'd wake up one morning and find that I'd become Leo Drummond

Half an hour ago her husband came in and threw a bowl of soup at her, because she just didn't get how much he loved her.

Every lawyer, at least once in every case, feels himself crossing a line that he doesn't really mean to cross. It just happens, and if you cross it enough times it disappears forever. And then you're nothing but another lawyer joke, just another shark in the dirty water.

A lawyer's not supposed to become personally involved with his clients. but there's all kinds of lawyers. and all kinds of clients, too.

But what do you need a financial advisor for? Twenty years ago you had the highest Gross National Product in the world, now you're tied with Albania. Your second largest export is secondhand goods, closely followed by dates which you're losing five cents a pound on… You know what the business community thinks of you? They think that a hundred years ago you were living in tents out here in the desert chopping each other's heads off and that's where you'll be in another hundred years, so, yes, on behalf of my firm I accept your money.

What are they thinking? They're thinking that it's running out. It's running out... and ninety percent of what's left is in the Middle East. This is a fight to the death.

Great. How much for my other kid?

Do you understand what that means, it's like someone put a giant ATM on our front lawn.

Beirut, it's great. It's like the Paris of the Middle East.

Listen, here's the thing. If you can't spot the sucker in your first half hour at the table, then you ARE the sucker.

In "Confessions of a Winning Poker Player," Jack King said, "Few players recall big pots they have won, strange as it seems, but every player can remember with remarkable accuracy the outstanding tough beats of his career." It seems true to me, cause walking in here, I can hardly remember how I built my bankroll, but I can't stop thinking of how I lost it.

If you had it to do all over again, knowing what would happen, would you make the same choice?

You can shear a sheep many times, but skin him only once.

I never told anybody this, about eight nine months ago, I'm at the Taj it's late and I see Johnny Chan walk in and he goes and sits in the three hundred six hundred section and the whole place stops and everybody puts an eye on him, after a while there wasn't a crap going on because all the high rollers are over there watching and some of them playing but they're giving their money to him and say "oh", I played with the world champion", you know what I did?

Rags, I had nothing, but he raised and I decided I don't care about the money, I'm just going to out play the guy, I'm going to out play this guy, this hand, I'll re-raise

Yeah, he comes back over the top at me trying bully me like I'm some tourist, I hesitate for like two seconds then I'll re-raise and he makes a move to his checks and he looks at me, check his cards and looks at me again, and he mucked it, I took it down

They're trying to goad me, trying to own me. But this isn't a gunfight. It's not about pride or ego. It's only about money. I can leave now, even with Grama and KGB... and halfway to paying Petrovsky back. That's the safe play. I told Worm you can't lose what you don't put in the middle. But you can't win much either.

I've often seen these people, these squares at the table, short stack and long odds against them. All their outs gone. One last card in the deck that can help them. I used to wonder how they could let themselves get into such bad shape, and how the hell they thought they could turn it around.

Why do you think the same five guys make it to the final table of the World Series of Poker EVERY YEAR? What, are they the luckiest guys in Las Vegas? It's a skill game Jo.

You were lookin' for that third three, but you forgot that Professor Green folded on Fourth Street and now you're representing that you have it. The DA made his two pair, but he knows they're no good. Judge Kaplan was trying to squeeze out a diamond flush but he came up short and Mr. Eisen is futilely hoping that his queens are going to stand up. So like I said, the Dean's bet is $20.

You were lookin' for that third three, but you forgot that Professor Green folded on Fourth Street and now you're representing that you have it. The DA made his two pair, but he knows they're no good. Judge Kaplan was trying to squeeze out a diamond flush but he came up short and Mr. Eisen is futilely hoping that his queens are going to stand up. So like I said, the Dean's bet is $20.

Worm's dad did the grounds, when he wasn't too fucking drunk, that's when we did them, of course the grounds weren't all we did, Worm put us into a scam a day on all the young aristocrats we went to school with, selling them dime bags of Oregano, nunchakus, or fire crackers from Chinatown, kept us in lunch money until the time we went from more than just pocket change and got caught we had the starting five take a dive against Friends Academy the point guard snapped and gave Worm up, they hauled him before the school board and offered him a deal " tell us who else was involved and we'll go easy on you" Worm didn't say a fucking word and got himself expelled, I stayed in school and graduated, not many friends can stand up for a friend like that.

I want him to think that I am pondering a call, but all I'm really thinkin about it Vegas and the fuckin' Mirage.

Five grand a week and you keep the juice going we want what you want we want to square this thing but three days is impossible no one's saying "your not the man", just think of it as a business decision, he just got out let's put him on a plan

I turned my ten grand into just over sixty, paid fifteen to Grama, six went back to the Chesterfield, and as for Worm, I figure we're even and after the ten going back to the professor I'm back where I started: "three stacks of high society"

Doyle Brunson says" the key to no limit is to put a man to a decision for all his chips" Teddy's just did it his representing aces the only hand better than my cowboys I can't call and just give him a chance to catch I can only fold if I believe him in a heads up match your stack is almost as important as the quality of your cards I chopped one of his legs off in the first hand now all I have to do is lean on him until he falls over   the rule is this: if you spot a man's tell, you don't say a fucking word I finally spotted KGB's and usually I'd let him chewing those Oreos until he was dead broke but I don't have that kind of time I've only got until morning not even Teddy KGB is immune to getting a little rattled.

The amazing thing is, in this collection of great legal minds there isn't a single real card player.

I don't know if I'm going to bring my legal career to a crashing halt before it even starts but sometimes I just can't help myself.

I tell you it's hard leaving that game, an open invitation to lay with those lames but I'm retired, and in my playing days, it'd be pretty sweet to have anyone of them owing me favors. The truth is I could always find games though, easy games, tough games, straight games, crooked games, home games. I can turn this truck onto the Jersey Turnpike and be at the Taj Mahal casino in two hours, but I've made promises I'm just a law student now.

I thought so too now I know what real work is, speaking of which are you going to get a job? Are you going to look? Or you're just going back to printing those credit cards? Are you going away again?

I want you to think long term, be smart every place in Manhattan they all keep books if you get listed as a "mechanic" not only you're going to get the shit kicked out of you you're not going to get a game anywhere in New York, it's just stupid it's bad business.

I know you're the guy that taught me all the angles but I'm not the one with my nose open right now, I'm going to preach to you, those two guys in there they're not "rabbits" ,Roman and Maurice they're Russian outfit guys, not as bad as KGB but you don't want to be fucking around with those guys.

You still got time, go back in there and lose their money back to them, and make it look good.

The game in question is no limit Texas hold'em minimum buy in twenty five thousand dollars a game like this doesn't come around often outside the casinos, the stakes attract rich flounders and they in turn attract the sharks, each player is dealt two cards face down then five cards are dealt face up these are known as community cards everyone can use to make the best five card hand, the key to the game is playing the man, not the cards, there's no other game in which fortunes can change so much from hand to hand, a brilliant player can get a strong hand, crack go on tilt and lose his mind along with every chip in front of him, this is why The World Series of Poker is decided on a no limit hold'em table, pro's won't play no limit they can't handle the swings but there are others like Doyle Brunson consider no limit the only pure game left, "Like Papa Wallenda said, "Life is on the wire, the rest is just waiting."

The poker room at The Mirage in Vegas is the center of the poker universe. Doyle Brunson, Johnny Chan, Phil Hellmuth the legends consider it their office, every couple of days a new millionaire shows up wanting to beat a world champion. Usually they go home with nothing but a story, down here the millionaires are scarce or they're playing craps, there's still plenty of money there for the taking, in fact you can't game in the city because the New York rounders are taking out the tourists here.

you don't hear much about guys who take their shot and miss, I'll tell you what happens to them: they end up humping crappy jobs on grave yard shifts, trying to figure out how they came up short. I had an picture in my head of me sitting at the big table Doyle sitting to my left Amarillo Slim to my right, playing in The World Series Of Poker and I let that vision blind me at the table against KGB now the closest I get to Vegas is West New York, driving down this lousy route from Knish to rounders who forgot the cardinal fucking rule: always leave yourself out.

I met Worm at Dwight-Englewood Preparatory Acamdemy in New Jersey, we were only two kids attending that didn't have a trust fund, my father's office was there,it said "custodian" on the door, that's why they took me.

these two have no idea what they're about to walk into, down here to have a good time they figure, "why not give poker a try? after all how different could it be from the home games they've played their whole lives?" All the luck in the world isn't going to change things for these guys, they're simply over matched, we're not playing together but then again we're not playing against each other, they wear their "tells" like signs around their necks, facial tics, nervous fingers the hand over the mouth, the way a cigarette is smoked, little unconscious gestures that reveal the cards in their hands. We catch everything if a fish acts strong he's bluffing, if he acts weak his got a hand, it's that simple.

I know all the reasons I shouldn't be here: sometimes reasons don't matter, no one's stood up for Worm his been kicked around his whole life from his father on down, maybe his not the same guy he was when he went away but I can't give up on him that easily, I'm all his got

Generally the rule is: the nicer the guy, the poorer the card player, these guys despite being cops are real sweet hearts. I'm right on schedule, I'm up forty two hundred. The morning can't get here soon enough.

Fold or hang tough, fold or raise the bet. These are decisions you make at the table, sometimes the odds are stacked so clear there's only one way to play it other times like holding a small pair against two over cards six to five or even money, either way then it's all about feel what's in your guts

Joey Knish is a New York legend his been a "rounder", earning his living at cards since he was 19 years old, he's as close to a friend in this place, but tonight I don't want to see him.he doesn't look like much but KGB is connected to all the way to the top of the Russian mob, he's the one guy you dont' want to fuck with. But if you're looking for high stakes, this is the only place in town, they all know me as a "small timer", but that's about to change.

Here's the beauty of this game: I just got top two pair on the flop and I want to keep him in the hand. Against your average guy, I'd set a "bear trap", hardly bet at all, let him walk into it. But KGB's too smart for that. So, what I've got to do is over bet the pot,make it look like I'm trying to buy it.

Yeah, I know I said that, but You know what I meant. I meant that you should use your head. You know, the way you calculate odds on the spot, the way you "read" people. I didn't mean it as a way to con your way into a summer job con? I was "networking".

Worm and I into our old rhythm like Clyde Frazier and Pearl Monroe, we "bring out" all the "old school" tricks, stuff we'd never play in the city, signaling, chip placing, trapping, we even use the old "best hand" play, I can probably crack the game just as quickly "straight up", but there's no risk in this room. Now, some people might "look down" on worm's mechanics, call it "immoral", but as Canada Bill Jones, said "It's immoral to let a sucker keep his money"

Worm really has become an artist, too. Discard culls, pickup culls, overhand run ups, the Double Duke: his technique is flawless, but his judgement is a little off, a few times, I have to fold the case hand just so it won't be obvious. Still, he plays the part of a loser to perfection

just walking in here makes me queasy, the brick walls, the fucking mopes at the table, the musty smell, I feel like Buckner walking back into Shea, but what choice do I have?

As I understand it, Chaney... or Chelmsford, as he called himshelf in Texas... shot the senator's dog. When the senator remonstrated, Chelmsford shot him as well. You could argue that the shooting of the dog was merely an instance of malum prohibitum, but the shooting of a senator is indubitably an instance of malum in se.

I thought you were going to say the sun was in your eyes. That is to say, your EYE.

You are getting ready to show your ignorance now, Cogburn. I don't mind a little personal chaffing but I won't hear anything against the Ranger troop from a man like you.

My Appaloosa will be galloping when that big American stud of yours is winded and collapsed. Now make another joke about it. You are only trying to put on a show for this girl Mattie with what you must think is a keen tongue.

You give out very little sugar with your pronouncements. While I sat there watchin' I gave some thought to stealin' a kiss... though you are very young, and sick... and unattractive to boot. But now I have a mind to give you five or six good licks with my belt.

I am not accustomed to so large a fire. In Texas, we'll make do with a fire of little more than twigs… buffalo chips. Heat the night's ration of beans. And it is Ranger policy never to make your camp in the same place as your cook fire. Very imprudent to make your presence known in unsettled country.

I thought you gonna say the sun was in your eyes. That is to say, your Eye!

It is you who have nothing to offer, Cogburn! A sad picture indeed. This is no longer a manhunt, it is a debauch. The Texas Ranger presses on… alone.

That is not my worry. You have earned your spurs, that is clear enough... . you have been a regular old hand on the trail. But Cogburn is right, even if I would not give him the satisfaction of conceding it. The trail is cold, and I am... considerably diminished.

I would go on in your company if there were clear way to go. But we would be striking out blindly. Chelmsford is gone. We have chased him right off the map. There is nothing for it. I am bound for Texas, and it is time for you to go home too... . The marshal, when he sobers, is your way back.

I was within three hundred yards of Chelmsford once. The closest I have been. With a Sharp's carbine that is within range, but I was mounted and had the choice of firing off-hand or dismounting to shoot from rest, which would allow Chelmsford to augment the distance. I fired mounted... and fired wide.

The Sharp's carbine is an instrument of uncanny balance and precision.

There's a point at 7,000 RPM... where everything fades. The machine becomes weightless. Just disappears. And all that's left is a body moving through space and time. 7,000 RPM. That's where you meet it. You feel it coming. It creeps up on you, close in your ear. Asks you a question. The only question that matters. Who are you?

We're lighter, we're faster, and if that don't work, we're nastier.

Well, sir… I was thinking about that very question as I sat out there in your lovely waiting room.

As I was sitting there… I watched that little red folder right there go through four pairs of hands… before it got to you. 'Course that doesn't include the 22 or so other Ford employees who probably poked at it before it made its way up to the 19th floor. All due respect, sir, you can't win a race by committee. You need one man in charge. Now, the good news, as I see it, is that even with all the extra weight, we still manage to put old Mr. Ferrari exactly where we want him.

Well... sure, we hadn't... We haven't worked out how to corner yet. Or stay cool. Or stay on the ground. And a lot of stuff broke. In fact, the only thing that didn't break was the brakes. Hell, right now, we don't even know if our paint job will last the whole 24 hours.

But our last lap… we clocked 218 miles an hour down the Mulsanne Straight. Now, in all his years of racing… old Enzo ain't never seen anything move that fast. And now he knows, without a doubt, we're faster than he is. Even with the wrong driver… and all the committees. And that's what he's thinking about while he's sitting in Modena, Italy, right now. That man is scared to death… that this year, you actually might be smart enough to start trusting me. So, yeah. I say you got Ferrari exactly where you want him. You're welcome.

When I was 10 years old, my Pops said, son it's a truly lucky man who knows what he wants to do in this world. 'Cause that man will never work a day in his life.

My name is Carroll Shelby and performance is my business.

Thank you. Well, if my daddy was here today, he'd tell me to sit on down and leave the yakking to the college boys so, like my cars, I'll make this fast. When I was 10 years old, Pops said to me, 'Son, it's a truly lucky man who knows what he wants to do in this world. 'Cause that man will never work a day in his life.' But there are a few, a precious few, and, hell, I don't know if they're lucky or not. But there are a few people who find something they have to do. Something obsesses 'em. Something that if they can't do it, it's gonna drive them clean out of their mind. I'm that guy. And I know one other man feels exactly the same. His name...

His name is Mr. Henry Ford.

And together, we're gonna build the fastest automobiles in the world.

And we're gonna make history too, at Le Mans.

My name is Carroll Shelby. I build race cars.

The day you wouldn't take a promotion, let me know. And if you'd taken care of this, I wouldn't even be here.

And I'm gonna need the identity of your undercovers.

What Freud said about the Irish is: We're the only people who are impervious to psychoanalysis.

If we're not gonna make it, it's gotta be you that gets out, cause I'm not capable. I'm fucking Irish, I'll deal with something being wrong for the rest of my life.

You got a nice suit at home or do you like coming to work everyday dressed like you're goin' to invade Poland?

Look, Frank, if you don't relax, if you don't relax, I can't relax. All right? Now what I need you to do is you get me information on the people who were with you last night. Your crew. Get me Social Security numbers, get me...

All right, all right. Frank, Frank, Frank, I'm sorry, Frank. If you could, please. What I need are SS numbers, DOBs, just all the pedigree information so I can run it on my end and we can ID the prick. If you can just get me that information, what I can do is I can just - I - I - we're gonna handle it. I - I - I can handle it.

I can't wait to see you explain this one to a fucking Suffolk County jury you fucking cocksucker. This is gonna be fucking fun!

Uh, Jimmy had a rough month. Jimmy had a heart attack in jail, and then he got himself knifed at Boston City Hospital. I believe it's been in the papers.

Fuck you, fuckin' queers. Firemen gettin' pussy for the first time in the history of fire or pussy. Hey go save a kitten in a tree, you fucking homos.

Yeah, you got a tail. Two cars, not very subtle. They're not gonna be very subtle from now on. That's what I've been trying to tell you.

I think you better call your mother, and tell her you won't be home for supper.

Look it, fuck-stick, you don't have to trust me. Just listen to what I am saying to you.

Now why would you have to remind me of that? Would I be any good at what I do if I didn't fucking already know that? Frank, you gotta trust me. Alright, just trust me Frank. Hey, it fucking involves lying and I'm pretty fucking good at that. Right?

Now Mrs. Kennefick, I knew your son. I knew Miles. Now he was a little younger than me but he was behind me in school. I wanna get these people who did this to him. Would you like to help us? You wanna help us catch the people who forced your son to do a robbery and then killed him?

No. Tomorrow's taken care of, one way or another. I was thinking about how you spend 30 years in a tiny cell, and come out ready to forgive the people who put you there.

Times change, we need to change as well.

I may break my arm, my leg, my neck, but I will not let that freaking guy go.

Come boys. What the heck are we doing? Lomu is killing us. Forwards, we must start scrumming. We must disrupt them at the first phase. Can't allow Lomu to get the ball in space. He's freaking killing us. But listen, if Lomu gets the ball, whoever's there… James, Joost… hit the fucking guy, hold onto him, hold him. Help will come, help will be there.

No, we didn't have the support of 60,000 South Africans, we had the support of 43 million South Africans!

Heads up, look in my eyes. Do you hear? Listen, listen to your country! Seven minutes, defense, defense, defense. This is it! This is our destiny!

If I could just go back… if I could rub everything out… starting with myself.

Don't you just take the past and put it in a room in a basement and lock the door and never go in there? That's what I do. And then you meet someone special and all you want to do is to toss them the key and say, "Open up, step inside," but you can't because it's dark. There's demons, and if anybody saw how ugly it is… I keep wanting to do that: fling the door open, just let light in and clean everything out.

And that's the irony, Marge. I loved you. You may was well know it, Marge: I loved you. I don't know... maybe it's grotesque of me to say this now, so just write it on a piece of paper or something and put it in your purse for a rainy day. 'Tom loves me.' 'Tom loves me.'

I know. I'm lost, too. I'm going to be stuck in the basement, aren't I, that's my, that's my… terrible, and alone, and dark, and I've lied about who I am, and where I am, and now no-one will ever find me.

I always thought it would be better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody.

Oh sure, no, no, it's too dangerous for you to take on. Oh, no, no, we're brothers. Hey. And then you do this sordid thing with Marge. Fucking her on the boat while we all have to listen. Which was excruciating! And you follow your cock around like a - and now you're getting married! No, I'm bewildered, forgive me. You're lying to Marge and then you're getting married to her. You're knocking up Silvana. You're ruining everybody. You wanna play the sax, you wanna play the drums. What is it, Dickie? What do you actually play?

That scent you're wearing... I bought that for you, not Dickie. The thing about Dickie... so many things... That day when he was late coming back from Rome? I tried to tell you this. He was with another girl. I'm not talking about Meredith, either. Another girl who we met in a bar. He couldn't be faithful for five minutes. So when he makes a promise, it doesn't mean what it means when you make a promise, or I make a promise. He has so many realities, Dickie, and he believes them all. He lies, he lies, and that's his... and half the time he doesn't even realize he's doing it!

I've been thinking about laws on Mars. There's an international treaty saying that no country can lay claim to anything that's not on Earth. By another treaty if you're not in any country's territory, maritime law aplies. So Mars is international waters. Now, NASA is an American non-military organization, it owns the Hab. But the second I walk outside I'm in international waters. So Here's the cool part. I'm about to leave for the Schiaparelli Crater where I'm going to commandeer the Ares IV lander. Nobody explicitly gave me permission to do this, and they can't until I'm on board the Ares IV. So I'm going to be taking a craft over in international waters without permission, which by definition... makes me a pirate. Mark Watney: Space Pirate.

If the oxygenator breaks down, I'll suffocate. If the water reclaimer breaks down, I'll die of thirst. If the hab breaches, I'll just kind of implode. If none of those things happen, I'll eventually run out of food and starve to death. So, yeah... Yeah...

I've got to make a lot more water. The good thing is, I know the recipe: You take hydrogen, you add oxygen, and you burn. Now, I have hundreds of liters of unused hydrazine at the MDV. If I run the hydrazine over an iridium catalyst, it'll separate into N2 and H2. And then if I just direct the hydrogen into a small area and burn it. Luckily, in the history of humanity, nothing bad has ever happened from lighting hydrogen on fire.

Every human being has a basic instinct: to help each other out. If a hiker gets lost in the mountains, people will coordinate a search. If a train crashes, people will line up to give blood. If an earthquake levels a city, people all over the world will send emergency supplies. This is so fundamentally human that it's found in every culture without exception. Yes, there are assholes who just don't care, but they're massively outnumbered by the people who do. ~ Mark Watney, The Martian

At some point, everything's gonna go south on you… everything's going to go south and you're going to say, this is it. This is how I end. Now you can either accept that, or you can get to work. That's all it is. You just begin. You do the math. You solve one problem… and you solve the next one… and then the next. And If you solve enough problems, you get to come home. All right, questions?

So, yeah, I blew myself up. Best guess, I forgot to account for the excess oxygen that I've been exhaling when I did my calculations because I'm stupid. I'm gonna get back to work here just as soon as my ears stop ringing.

It's a strange feeling. Everywhere I go, I'm the first. Step outside the rover? First guy ever to be there! Climb a hill? First guy to climb that hill! Kick a rock? That rock hadn't moved in a million years! I'm the first guy to drive long-distance on Mars. The first guy to spend more than thirty-one sols on Mars. The first guy to grow crops on Mars. First, first, first!

The other question I get most frequently is. When I was up there stranded by myself, did I think I was gonna die? Yes, absolutely. And that's one you need to know, going in, because it's gonna happen to you. This is space. It does not cooperate.

I know what they're doing. I know exactly what they're doing. They just keep repeating "go faster than any man in the history of space travel", like that's a good thing. Like it'll distract me from how insane their plan is. Yeah, I get to go faster than any man in the history of space travel, because you're launching me in a convertible. Actually it's worse than that, because I won't even be able to control the thing. And by the way, physicists, when describing things like acceleration do not use the word "fast". So they're only doing that in the hopes that I won't raise any objections to this lunacy, because I like the way "fastest man in the history of space travel" sounds. I do like the way it sounds... I mean, I like it a lot.

It's been 48 sols since I planted the potatoes. So now it's time to reap and re-sow. They grew even better than I expected. I now have 400 healthy potato plants. I dug them up being careful to leave their plants alive. The smaller ones I'll reseed, the larger ones are my food supply. All natural, organic, martian-grown potatoes. You don't hear that every day, do you? And by the way, none of this matters at all if I can't figure out a way to make contact with NASA.

Let's do the math. Our surface mission here was supposed to take thirty-one days. For redundancy, they sent enough food to last for sixty-eight days. For six people. So for just me, it'll last three-hundred days. And I figure I can stretch that to four hundred if I ration. So… I've still gotta figure out how to grow three years worth of food. Here. On a planet where nothing grows. Luckily, I'm a botanist.

Of course that's your contention. You're a first-year grad student; you just got finished reading some Marxian historian, Pete Garrison probably. You're gonna be convinced of that 'till next month when you get to James Lemon. Then you're going to be talking about how the economies of Virginia and Pennsylvania were entrepreneurial and capitalist way back in 1740. That's gonna last until next year; you're gonna be in here regurgitating Gordon Wood, talkin' about, you know, the pre-revolutionary utopia and the capital-forming effects of military mobilization.

"Wood drastically underestimates the impact of social distinctions predicated upon wealth, especially inherited wealth"? You got that from Vickers' "Work in Essex County," page 98, right? Yeah, I read that too. Were you gonna plagiarize the whole thing for us? Do you have any thoughts of your own on this matter? Or do you, is that your thing, you come into a bar, read some obscure passage and then pretend - you pawn it off as your own, as your own idea just to impress some girls, embarrass my friend?

See, the sad thing about a guy like you is, in 50 years you're gonna start doin' some thinkin' on your own and you're going to come up with the fact that there are two certainties in life: one, don't do that, and two, you dropped 150 grand on a fuckin' education you could have got for a dollar fifty in late charges at the public library!

Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll take a shot. Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never met, never had no problem with, get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Oh, send in the Marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number got called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie takin' shrapnel in the ass. And he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And, of course, the oil companies used the skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, of course, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and fuckin' play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the fuckin' job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin', 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure fuck it, while I'm at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president.

You know, I was on this plane once. And I'm sittin' there and the captain comes on and he does his whole, "We'll be cruising at 35,000 feet," then he puts the mike down but he forgets to turn it off. Then he turns to the copilot and goes, "You know, all I could go for right now is a fuckin' blow job and a cup of coffee." So the stewardess fuckin' goes bombin' up from the back of the plane to tell him the mic's still on, and this guy behind me goes, "Hey, hon, don't forget the coffee!"

There is a lengthy legal precedent going back to 1789 whereby a defendant can claim self-defense against an agent of the government if that act is deemed a defense against tyranny a defense of liberty, Henry Ward Beecher wrote in the Plymouth Pulpit 1887 and I quote…

Excuse me, I'm afforded the right to speak in my own defense by The Constitution of the United States this is the same document which guarantees my liberty, and liberty in case you've forgotten, is a soul's right to breathe. And when I cannot take a long breath, laws are girdled too tight

This, this one night, two of my brothers came and woke me up in the middle of the night. And they said they had a surprise for me. So they took me to the barn up in the loft and there was my oldest brother, Dan, with Alice, Alice Jardine. I mean, picture a girl who just took a nosedive from the ugly tree and hit every branch coming down. And… and Dan's got his shirt off and he's working on this bra and he's tryin to get it off and all of a sudden Shawn just screams out, "Danny you're a young man, don't do it!" And so Alice Jardine hears this and she screams and she jumps up and she tries to get running out of the barn but she's still got this shirt over her head. She goes running right into the wall and knocks herself out. So now Danny's just so mad at us. He, he starts coming after us, but… but at the same time Alice is over there unconscious. He's gotta wa… , wake her up. So he grabs her by a leg and he's drag, dragging her. At the same time he picks up a shovel. And he's going after Shawn, and Shawn's saying, "What are you trying to hit me for? I just did you a favor!" And so this makes Dan more angry. He tries to swing this thing, he looses the shovel, goes outta his grasp and hits a kerosene lantern; the thing explodes, the whole barn almost goes up because of this thing. That was it. That was the last, that was, Dan went off to basic the next day. That was the last night the four of us were together. That was two years ago. Tell me about your wife and those rosebushes?