I feel your fear growing. You will be dead soon…
In brightest day, in blackest night…
…and when you are gone, I will destroy everything you ever loved…
…no evil shall escape my sight…
…your family, your home, your planet will be no more.
…let those who worship evil’s might…
Your entire human race will be wiped out, because you, Hal Jordan, were afraid.
…beware of my power, GREEN LANTERN’S LIGHT!
[talking to Anna about Bob Marley]
He had this idea. It was kind of a virologist idea. He believed that you could cure racism and hate… literally cure it, by injecting music and love into people’s lives. When he was scheduled to perform at a peace rally, a gunman came to his house and shot him down. Two days later he walked out on that stage and sang. When they asked him why – He said, ”The people, who were trying to make this world worse… are not taking a day off. How can I? Light up the darkness.”
Need a hug?
We’re not a hugging family.
Difficult, not impossible.
All more proof you’re insane.
Why do you look so impressed?
Why, Mr. Anderson? Why, why? Why do you do it? Why, why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you believe you’re fighting… for something? For more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know? Is it freedom? Or truth? Perhaps peace? Could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself, although… only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson. You must know it by now. You can’t win. It’s pointless to keep fighting. Why, Mr. Anderson? Why? Why do you persist?
Because I choose to.
My fear is that I’m gonna put you in a bikini and you’ll still look like a fucking bank teller.
I love French wine, like I love the French language. I have sampled every language, French is my favorite. Fantastic language. Especially to curse with. Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d’enculer ta mère. It’s like wiping your arse with silk. I love it.
I’d like to share a revelation that I’ve had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species and I realized that you’re not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment but you humans do not. You move to an area and you multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed and the only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You’re a plague and we are the cure.