Robert FordThey cannot see the things that will hurt them. I've spared them that. Their lives are blissful. In a way, their existence is purer than ours, freed of the burden of self-doubt.
No, no, no, no. I don't understand.
You're a fucking monster.
Robert FordAm I? Well, you were the one who would so blithely destroy all of them, even him, I suppose. After everything you have shared.
What the hell are you talking about?
Is that why? Did you tell him to -
Robert FordThe intimacies were your idea, if you will recall. I think Bernard was glad of the company.
I'm not one. I can't be. My wife. My son. The burial. I was a father. My poor boy.
Robert FordThat's enough, Bernard. You mustn't get yourself worked up. [to Theresa] I read a theory once that the human intellect was like peacock feathers. Just an extravagant display intended to attract a mate. All of art, literature, Beethoven, Mozart, William Shakespeare, Michelangelo, and the Empire State Building... Just an elaborate mating ritual. Maybe it doesn't matter that we have accomplished so much for the basest of reasons. But, of course, the peacock can barely fly. It lives in the dirt, pecking insects out of the muck, consoling itself with its great beauty. I have come to think of so much of consciousness as a burden, a weight, and we have spared them that. Anxiety, self-loathing, guilt. The hosts are the ones who are free. Free here under my control.
Westworld · 247 quotes










