Dead Poets Society

Keating: "Seize the day. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may." Why does the writer use these lines? Charlie: Because he's in a hurry. Keating: No. Ding! Thank you for playing anyway. Because we are food for worms, lads. Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold and die.

Dead Poets Society, CC BY-SA 4.0

Keating: Language was developed for one endeavor, and that is… Mr. Anderson? Come on, are you a man or an amoeba? [pause] Mr. Perry? Neil: To communicate. Keating: No! To woo women!

Dead Poets Society, CC BY-SA 4.0

Charlie Dalton: Welton Academy. Hello? Yes, he is. Just a moment. Mr. Nolan, it's for you. It's God. He says we should have girls at Welton. Keating: Phone call from God. If it had been collect, that would have been daring!

Dead Poets Society, CC BY-SA 4.0

McAllister: You take a big risk by encouraging them to be artists, John. When they realize they're not Rembrandts, Shakespeares or Mozarts, they'll hate you for it. Keating: We're not talking artists, George, we're talking freethinkers. McAllister: Freethinkers at seventeen? Keating: Funny — I never pegged you as a cynic. McAllister: Not a cynic, a realist. "Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams, and I'll show you a happy man." Keating: "But only in their dreams can men be truly free. 'Twas always thus, and always thus will be." McAllister: Tennyson? Keating: No, Keating.

Dead Poets Society, CC BY-SA 4.0

Keating: Why do I stand up here? Anybody? Charlie: To feel taller! Keating: No! [Dings a bell with his foot] Thank you for playing, Mr. Dalton. I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way.

Dead Poets Society, CC BY-SA 4.0

Keating: The picture of Uncle Walt up there. What does he remind you of? Don't think. Answer. Go on. Todd: A m-m-madman. Keating: What kind of madman? Don't think about it. Just answer again. Todd: A c-crazy madman. Keating: No, you can do better than that. Free up your mind. Use your imagination. Say the first thing that pops into your head, even if it's total gibberish. Go on, go on. Todd: Uh, uh, a sweaty-toothed madman. Keating: Good God, boy, there's a poet in you, after all. There, close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close 'em. Now, describe what you see. Todd: Uh, I-I close my eyes. Keating: Yes? Keating: A sweaty-toothed madman? Todd: A sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain. Keating: Oh, that's excellent. Now, give him action. Make him do something. Todd: H-His hands reach out and choke me. Keating: That's it. Wonderful. Wonderful. Todd: And, and all the time he's mumbling. Keating: What's he mumbling? Todd: M-Mumbling, "Truth. Truth is like, like a blanket that

Dead Poets Society, CC BY-SA 4.0