Francis de Marais: Why don't you Americans learn from us - from our mistakes? Mon Dieux! With your Army, your strength, your power, you could win if you want to! You can win!
Hubert de Marais: The Vietnamese... we worked with them, made something - something out of nothing... We want to stay here because it's ours - it belongs to us. It keeps our family together. I mean, we fought for that. While you Americans... you are fighting for the biggest nothing in history!
Nevěřím, že někdy uvidím něco lepšího, co by mohlo válku ukázat názorněji a jasněji; Apokalypsa: Redux – film, jenž sám pro sebe vytváří svojí vlastní filmovou kategorii, protože do žádné z těch existujících ho nelze jednoduše zařadit. Je silný jak desátý grog do lačného žaludku, bere dech svojí přímočarostí, ukazuje pravdu válečného utrpení, nastavuje zrcadla, ptá se, zobrazuje vše, co mělo být zobrazeno a řečeno...
Kilgore: Smell that? You smell that?
Lance: What?
Kilgore: Napalm, son. Nothing in the world smells like that.
[kneels]
Kilgore: I love the smell of napalm in the morning. You know, one time we had a hill bombed, for 12 hours. When it was all over, I walked up. We didn't find one of 'em, not one stinkin' dink body. The smell, you know that gasoline smell, the whole hill. Smelled like... victory. Someday this war's gonna end...
[Kilgore unhappily walks off]
Je to cesta za vykoupením, které nemůže přijít. Cesta proti proudu široké řeky, cesta plná neuvěřitelných okamžiků a setkání, nešťastných náhod a krvavých jatek nekontrolované zuřivosti, cesta jako přijmutí poslední výzvy, kdy je člověk připraven na vše, kdy neváhá naposledy vydechnout, byť jeho poslední vteřiny nepřinášejí nikomu nic, všichni prohrávají, všichni ztrácejí, všichni umírají...
Kurtz: I've seen horrors... horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that... but you have no right to judge me. It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror. Horror has a face... and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies. I remember when I was with Special Forces. Seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into a camp to inoculate the children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for Polio, and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn't see. We went back there and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile. A pile of little arms. And I remember... I... I... I cried. I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn't know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget. And then I realized... like I was shot... like I was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought: My God... the genius of that. The genius. The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we. Because they could stand that these were not monsters. These were men... trained cadres. These men who fought with their hearts, who had families, who had children, who were filled with love... but they had the strength... the strength... to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men our troubles here would be over very quickly. You have to have men who are moral... and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling... without passion... without judgment... without judgment. Because it's judgment that defeats us.
Neuvěřitelně uvěřitelné, magicky obepínající, halucinace v bdělém stavu, opojení krví, touha uniknout do paralelního světa; všechny náležitosti lidského bytí se pomalu rozbíjejí ztichlou zčernalou energií, ve vzduchu jsou cítit spálené cáry lidských těl, pohrobci minulosti nepřestávají doufat, vyslankyně hlouposti poskytují to jediné, co mohou nabídnout... a pomalu předoucí motor posunuje starý vojenský člun dále proti proudu, kde čeká vykoupení v podobě nekonečné neuhasínající pálící bolesti...
Willard: I was going to the worst place in the world and I didn't even know it yet. Weeks away and hundreds of miles up a river that snaked through the war like a main circuit cable - plugged straight into Kurtz. It was no accident that I got to be the caretaker of Colonel Walter E. Kurtz's memory - any more than being back in Saigon was an accident. There is no way to tell his story without telling my own. And if his story really is a confession, then so is mine.
Kurtz: I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream. That's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight... razor... and surviving.
NP The Doors – The End (2000 – The Best of Doors)
