All right, sweethearts, what are you waiting for? Breakfast in bed? It's another glorious day in the Corps. A day in the Marine Corps is like a day on the farm: Every meal's a banquet. Every paycheck's a fortune! Every formation's a parade! I love the Corps!
This... This is what I'm talking about. This is what I mean when I'm
talkin' about time, and death, and futility. all right there are broader
ideas at work, mainly what is owed between us as a society for our
mutual illusions. 14 straight hours of staring at DB's, these are the
things ya think of. You ever done that? You look in their eyes, even in a
picture, doesn't matter if they're dead or alive, you can still read 'em.
You know what you see? They welcomed it... not at first, but... right
there in the last instant. It's an unmistakable relief. See, cause they
were afraid, and now they saw for the very first time how easy it was to
just... let go. Yeah They saw, in that last nanosecond, they saw... what
they were. You, yourself, this whole big drama, it was never more than
a jerry rig of presumption and dumb will, and you could just let go. To
finally know that you didn't have to hold on so tight. To realize that all
your life, all your love, all your hate, all your memories, all your pain, it
was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you
had inside a locked room, a dream about being a person. And like a lot
of dreams, there's a monster at the end of it.
Kit Keller: (Trying to convince Dottie to try out for the league so she can as well) Come on, Dottie. You've got the whole rest of your life to hang around here. Never go anywhere, never do anything...
Dottie Hinson: Look, I'm married, I'm happy. That's what I want, so let's not confuse things.
Kit Keller: Okay...But can't you just have this first? Just so you can say you once did something? Something special? Huh?
Mrs. Keller: For goodness sake, Kit! Keep your voice down! Your father's listening to the radio!
Kit Keller: Please, Dottie. I gotta get outta here...I'm nothing here.
- Why don't you get out of those wet clothes? You could catch pneumonia.
- Yes, I know that. I know that. I will do as soon as I get home, provided that idiot Cato does not attack me first.
- Why don't you just tell him not to?
- Believe me, it's not that easy. I have given him instructions to attack me wherever and whenever possible, and it has now become a matter of pride with him to try to outsmart me. I guarantee that at this very minute his fiendish, little yellow brain is plotting some new ambush.
Noriega formed these so-called Dignity Battalions. Dingbats. They were to beat the dignity out of anyone remotely critical of Noriega. It was Dr. Frankenstein, George Bush, who created this monster when he was head of the CIA. And when Noriega's drugrunning and brutality got too much, even for the CIA, it was George, now President Bush, who decided to take him out. And just to make sure, they firebombed a big chunk of the old city. Sadly, that's where the anti-Noriega rebels were. The handful that Noriega hadn't banged up already. So no more opposition, silent or otherwise. Burnt, scattered, fled.
The Tailor of Panama
... And must I now begin to doubt, who never doubted all these years. My heart is stone and still it trembles, the world I have known is lost in shadows. Is he from heaven or from hell and does he know that granting me my life today this man has killed me even so?
Look at you. Sitting there. You think you're good people. You're not good people. Trust me. There's no such thing as good people. I used to be like you. Thinking that working hard and playing fair would lead to success and happiness. It doesn't. Playing fair is a joke invented by rich people to keep the rest of us poor.