from Stalker 1979 by Tarkovsky

Listen, Professor.
Speaking of the purchased inspiration.
Let's imagine that I enter this room
and return to our God-forsakentown a genius.
A man writes because he's tormented,because he doubts.
He needs to constantly proveto himself and the others
that he's worth something.
And if I know for surethat I'm a genius?
Why write then?
What the hell for?
Well, I must say
that we exist for...


Will you be so kindand leave me alone?
Let me get a wink,l haven't slept all night.
Keep your complexes to yourself.

In any case,all this technology of yours...
all those blast furnaces, wheels...
and other bullshit
are only designed in orderto work less and eat more.
They are all just crutches,artificial limbs.
And mankind existsin order to create...
works of art.
Unlike all other human activities,this one is unselfish.
Great illusions!lmages of the absolute truth!
Are you listening to me, Professor?

What unselfishness are you talkingabout?
People still die of hunger.Have you fallen from the moon?

And they are considered to beour brainy aristocracy!
You're not even capable of thinkingin abstractions.

Are you going to teach meabout the meaning of life?
And also how to think?

lt's useless. You might bea professor, but an ignorant one.