Interstellar Monologues

A team of explorers travel through a wormhole in space in an attempt to ensure humanity's survival.

Hey Dad. You sonabitch. Never made one of these while you were still responding because I was so mad at you for leaving. And when you went quiet, it seemed like I should live with that decision, and I have. But today's my birthday. And it's a special one, because you told me… you once told me that by the time you came back we might be the same age. And today I'm the same age you were when you left.

So it'd be a real good time for you to come back.

A feeling. I told you about my ghost. My dad thought I called it a ghost, because I was scared of it. But I was never scared of it. I called it a ghost, because it felt… it felt like a person; like it was trying to tell me something. If there's an answer here on earth it's back there, somehow in that room.

He came back! It was him! All this time... I... I didn't know it was him. Dad's gonna save us!

So listen to me when I say that love isn't something that we invented. It's… observable, powerful. It has to mean something.

We love people who have died. Where's the social utility in that?

Maybe it means something more - something we can't yet understand. Maybe it's some evidence, some artefact of a higher dimension that we can't consciously perceive. I'm drawn across the universe to someone I haven't seen in a decade, who I know is probably dead. Love is the one thing we're capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space. Maybe we should trust that, even if we can't understand it. All right Cooper. Yes. The tiniest possibility of seeing Wolf again excites me. That doesn't mean I'm wrong.

Time is relative, okay? It can stretch and it can squeeze, but… it can't run backwards. Just can't. The only thing that can move across dimensions, like time, is gravity.

We used to look up at the sky and wonder at our place in the stars. Now we just look down, and worry about our place in the dirt.

Mankind was born on Earth. It was never meant to die here.

We've always defined ourselves by the ability to overcome the impossible. And we count these moments. These moments when we dare to aim higher, to break barriers, to reach for the stars, to make the unknown known. We count these moments as our proudest achievements. But we lost all that. Or perhaps we've just forgotten that we are still pioneers. And we've barely begun. And that our greatest accomplishments cannot be behind us, that our destiny lies above us.

You know, one of those useless machines they used to make was called an MRI, and if we had any of those left the doctors would have been able to find the cyst in my wife's brain, before she died instead of after, and then she would've been the one sitting here, listening to this instead of me, which would've been a good thing because she was always the… calmer one.

After you kids came along, your mom, she said something to me I never quite understood. She said, "Now, we're just here to be memories for our kids." I think now I understand what she meant. Once you're a parent, you're the ghost of your children's future.

Don't you get it yet, TARS? I brought myself here! We're here to communicate with the three-dimensional world! We're the bridge! I thought they chose me. But they didn't choose me, they chose her!

To save the world! All of this, is one little girl's bedroom, every moment! It's infinitely complex! They have access, to infinite time and space, but they're not *bound* by anything! They can't find a specific place *in* time, they can't communicate. That's why I'm here. I'm gonna find a way to tell Murph, just like I found this moment.

No. When you become a parent, one thing becomes really clear. And that's that you want to make sure your children feel safe. And that rules out telling a 10-year old that the world's ending.