Tobey Maguire Monologues

In issue 141 of the Fantastic Four, published in November, 1973, Reed Richards had to use his anti-matter weapon on his own son, who Aannihilus has turn into the Human Atom Bomb. It was a typical predicament for the Fantastic Four, because they weren't like other superheroes. They were more like a family. And the more power they had, the more harm they could do to each other without even knowing it. That was the meaning of the Fantastic Four: that a family is like your own personal anti-matter. Your family is the void you emerge from, and the place you return to when you die. And that's the paradox - the closer you're drawn back in, the deeper into the void you go.

When you think about it, it's not easy to keep from just wandering out of life. It's like someone's always leaving the door open to the next world, and if you aren't paying attention you could just walk through it, and then you've died. That's why in your dreams it's like you're standing in that doorway… and the dying people and the newborn people pass by you… and brush up against you as they come in and out of the world during the night. You get spun around, and in the morning… it takes a while to find your way back into the world.

To find yourself in the negative zone, as the Fantastic Four often do, means all every day assumptions are inverted. Even the invisible girl herself becomes visible and so she loses the last semblance of her power. It seems to me that everyone exists partially on a negative zone level, some people more than others. In your life, it's kind of like you dip in and out of it, a place where things don't quite work out the way they should. But for some people, the negative zone tempts them. And they end up going in, going in all the way.

Your family is the void you emerge from, and the place you return to when you die. And that's the paradox: The closer you're drawn back in, the deeper into the void you go.

I've been thinking, Francis. You are one drug-addled, elitist freak. And when the revolution comes I do not want to be lined up with you and shot because you're fucking ripe for political reeducation. You know, like in the fields.

There is one dream where in my dream, I'm Spider-Man. But I'm losing my powers. I'm climbing a wall but I keep falling.

In my dream… Actually, it's not even my dream, it's a friend of mine's dream.

That's the problem, he doesn't know what to think.

I have a choice.

I went someplace else, someplace where I thought I could win some money, to buy a car, because I wanted to impress Mary Jane. It happened so fast... I won the money, the guy wouldn't pay me, then he got robbed... the thief was running towards me... I could have stopped him, but I wanted to take revenge... I let him go, I let him get away. He wanted a car, he tried to take Uncle Ben's. Uncle Ben said no... and then he shot him. Uncle Ben was killed that night for being the only one who did the right thing. I held his hand when he died... I've tried to tell you so many times...

Am I not supposed to have what I want? What I need? What am I supposed to do?

She looks at me everyday. Mary Jane Watson. Oh boy! If she only knew how I felt about her. But she can never know. I made a choice once to live a life of responsibility. A life she can never be a part of. Who am I? I'm Spider-Man, given a job to do. And I'm Peter Parker, and I too have a job.

Then you know why we can't be together. Spider-Man will always have enemies. I can't let you take that risk. I will always be Spider-Man. You and I can never be…

I wanna tell you the truth... here it is: I'm Spider-Man. Weird, huh? Now you know why I can't be with you. If my enemies found out about you... if you got hurt, I could never forgive myself. I wish I could tell you how I feel about you...

In my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some advice. "Always try to see the best in people," he would say. As a consequence, I'm inclined to reserve all judgements. But even I have a limit.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther… And one fine morning - So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Jay! They're a rotten crowd. You're worth the whole damn bunch put together.

I was always glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever paid him.

They were careless people, Tom and Daisy. They smashed up things and people, and then retreated back into their money and their vast carelessness.

Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope.

His Smile was one of those rare smiles that you may come across four or five times in life. It seem to understand you and believe in you just as you would love to be understood and believed in.

Thirty. The promise of a decade of loneliness. The formidable stroke of 30 died away as Gatsby and Daisy drove on thought the cooling twilight - towards death.

Possibly, it had occurred to Gatsby that the colossal significance of that light had vanished forever. Now it was once again just a green light on a dock and his count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.

Stocks reached record peaks, and Wall Street boomed a steady golden roar. The parties were bigger, the shows were broader, the buildings were higher, the morals were looser, and the ban on alcohol had backfired. Making the liquor cheaper. Wall Street was luring the young and ambitious, and I was one of them.

I remember how we had all come to Gatsby's and guessed at this corruption while he stood before us concealing and incorruptible dream…

Gatsby's real name was James Gatz. His parents were dirt-poor farmers from North Dakota, but he never accepted them as his parents at all. In his own imagination, he was a son of God, destined for future glory.

The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time. In its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world. Anything can happen, now that we have slid over this bridge, I thought. Anything at all. Even Gatsby could happen.

Whatever life holds in store for me, I will never forget these words: "With great power comes great responsibility." This is my gift, my curse. Who am I? I'm Spider-man.

I said… uh… Spider-Man, I said uh… The great thing about MJ is… when you look in her eyes and she's looking back in yours… everything… feels… not quite normal. Because you feel stronger and weaker at the same time. You feel excited and at the same time, terrified. The truth is… you don't know what you feel except you know what kind of man you want to be. It's as if you've reached the unreachable and you weren't ready for it."

Not everyone is meant to make a difference. But for me, the choice to lead an ordinary life is no longer an option.

Who am I? You sure you want to know? The story of my life is not for the faint of heart. If somebody said it was a happy little tale… if somebody told you I was just your average ordinary guy, not a care in the world… somebody lied. But let me assure you: This, like any story worth telling, is all about a girl. That girl. The girl next door. Mary Jane Watson. The woman I've loved since before I even liked girls.

I'd like to say that's me sitting next to her.

Aw, heck, I'd even take him.

That's me.

Spider-Man wasn't trying to attack the city, he was trying to save it. That's slander.

I can't help thinking about... the last thing I said to him. He tried to tell me something important, and I threw it in his face.

I want you to know, that I will always be there for you; I will always be there to take care of you. I promise you that. I will always be your friend.

Sorry I'm late, it's a jungle out there; I had to beat an old lady with a stick to get these cranberries.

Who am I? Are you sure you want to know? If someone told you I was just your average ordinary guy without a care in the world, somebody lied. Truth is it wasn't always like this. There was a time when life was a lot less complicated.

I've looked at so many women. I've seen everything, and felt nothing. But when I look at you, it hurts.

To do nothing. It's a great idea, really. Maybe if I just wait and see long enough, then I won't have to do anything or decide anything, you know? I mean, maybe if I'm lucky enough, someone else will decide and choose and do things for me.

But then again, maybe I won't be that lucky. And it's not my fault. It's not your fault. And that's just it. Someone's gonna get hurt, and it's no one's fault.

If we just sit here and, we wait and see a little longer, then maybe you won't to choose, and I won't have to *do* anything!

Nothing. I'm sorry. You're not the one who has to do anything.

Dear Dr. Larch. Thank you for your doctor's bag, although it seems that I will not have the occasion to use it, barring some emergency, of course. I am not a doctor. With all due respect to your profession, I'm enjoying my life here. I'm enjoying being a lobsterman and orchardman. In fact, I've never enjoyed myself as much. The truth is, I want to stay here. I believe I'm being of some use.

Dear Dr. Larch, What I'm learning her may not be as important as what I learned from you, but everything is new to me. Yesterday, I learned how to poison mice. Field mice girdle an apple tree; pine mice kill the roots. You use poison oats and poison corn. I know what you have to do. You have to play God. Well, killing mice is as close as I want to come to playing God.

I'm not a doctor.

I can't replace you. I'm sorry.

I'm not a doctor. I haven't been to medical school; I haven't even been to high school.

Goodnight, you princes of Maine. You kings of New England.