The Counselor: A Screenplay

I have no wish to paint the world in colors more somber than those it wears, but as the world gives way to darkness it becomes more and more difficult to dismiss the understanding that the world is in fact oneself. It is a thing which you have created, no more, no less. And when you cease to be so will the world. There will be other worlds. Of course. But they are the worlds of other men and your understanding of them was never more than an illusion anyway. Your world-- the only one that matters-- will be gone. And it will never come again

Men are attracted to flawed women too of course, but their illusion is that they can fix them. Women don't want to fix anything. They just want to be entertained. The truth about women is you can do anything to them except bore them.

Life is being in bed with you. Everything else is just waiting.

The extinction of all reality is a concept no resignation can encompass. Until annihilation comes. And all grand ideas are seen for what they are.

At our noblest we announce to the darkness that we will not be diminished by the brevity of our lives.

But nothing is crueler than a coward, and the slaughter to come is probably beyond our imagining.

And you will never know the depth of your heart until you are presented with the opportunity for revenge. Only then will you know what you are capable of.

You can make no distinction between what he is and what he does. And what he does is kill. We of course are another matter. I suspect that we are ill-formed for the path we have chosen. Ill-formed and ill-prepared. We would like to draw a veil over all that blood and terror. That have brought us to this place. It is our faintness of heart that would close our eyes to all of that, but in so doing it makes of it our destiny. Perhaps you would not agree. I dont know. But nothing is crueller than a coward, and the slaughter to come is probably beyond our imagining.

From thinking about your sweet face between my legs.

I don't mean to upset you, but reflective men often find themselves at a certain remove from the realities of life.

Where the bodies are buried in the desert is a certain world, Counselor. Where they are simply left in the street is another. That is a country heretofore unknown to me. But it must have always been there, must it not?

Because you don't know someone until you know what they want.

Only the most powerful love would have someone act so between that of a mother and her child.

Everyone had a unique, personal moment of when the war started. Before and after became separated and would always be used as a point of reference

War! Was it worth it? So much was lost and left behind. Precious lives. Houses and friends, safeties and freedoms. Childhoods and dreams

I think that Freud is right in that a son who is worshipped by his mother will never doubt himself. But a contentious father can undo that. And the virtues of a dead father - his very identity for that matter - are limited only by the mother's imagination

When the world itself is the source of your torment then you are free to exact vengeance upon any least part of it, I think perhaps you would have to be a woman to understand that. And you will never know the depth of your hurt until you are presented with the opportunity for revenge. Only then will you know what you are capable of.