Tim Robbins Monologues

Where do we go from here?

I hope so.

Definitely.

I can ask it to be honest.

If you want to be his father, you will walk to your house, sleep in your bed, teach your classes, and live your life!

Well, if I see any strange cars on my street, if you feel compelled to talk to someone, a federal agent perhaps, I imagine we're just going to kill one.

Michael, because of you my son is alive. I would like very much to return the favor.

It's for you, Michael. We're doing this for you. It's for all of us.

Are you happy in your godless suburban life?

They sent your wife to her death, Michael! Surely you won't be sorry to see them go?

Go on… run. You're too late!

How was St. Louis? Dr. Scobee doing all right?

You're doing it again, Michael. I told you if you want to know something about me, just ask.

He's with mine. They're safe. They're out on an excursion…

I'm sorry, what?

I know you did. That is the reason why you're still alive.

Brooke got in the way. I'm sorry about that, but we're on a schedule.

I'm a messenger Michael, I'm a messenger! There's millions of us, waiting to take up arms, ready to spread the word... millions of us!

Yes. Yes... they'll pay. They'll pay for their sins. Their lies.

Children... I know that. This is war, Michael. In a war, children die.

Never wiser than when we're children. They say it and it's true. We'll never see things that clear again.

Their lies, their children.

This is war. In a war, children die.

He's a good kid. A strong kid. Reminds me of a boy I grew up with. Maybe you've heard of him. Oliver Lang? I found him in the woods one day. I would hate for Grant to see the same thing.

You're the sick fuck!

I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living, or get busy dying.

If they ever try to trace any of those accounts, they're gonna end up chasing a figment of my imagination.

Yeah. The funny thing is - on the outside, I was an honest man, straight as an arrow. I had to come to prison to be a crook.

She was beautiful. God I loved her. I just didn't know how to show it, that's all. I killed her, Red. I didn't pull the trigger, but I drove her away. And that's why she died, because of me.

Dear Red. If you're reading this, you've gotten out. And if you've come this far, maybe you're willing to come a little further. You remember the name of the town, don't you?

I could use a good man to help me get my project on wheels. I'll keep an eye out for you and the chessboard ready. Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well. Your friend. Andy.

One in particular. It's got a long rock wall with a big oak tree at the north end. It's like something out of a Robert Frost poem. It's where I asked my wife to marry me. We went there for a picnic and made love under that oak and I asked and she said yes. Promise me, Red. If you ever get out… find that spot. At the base of that wall, you'll find a rock that has no earthly business in a Maine hayfield. Piece of black, volcanic glass. There's something buried under it I want you to have.