Karrer's monologue from Bela Tarr's Damnation:

I sit by the window and look out completely in vain. For years and years I've been sitting there and something always tells me I'll go mad the next moment. But I don't go mad the next moment, and I have no fear of going mad because fear of madness would mean that I'd have to cling to something. Yet I don't cling to anything. I cling to nothing, but everything clings to me.

They want me to look at them. To look at the hopelessness of things. To watch as a scruffy dog outside my window under the pewter sky in the torrential rain walks up to a puddle and has a drink. They want me to watch the pitiful effort everyone makes in trying to speak before they drop into the grave. But there's not time for they are already falling. And they want this irreversibility of things to drive me mad, but the next second they want me not to go mad.

Once I almost talked about that with a woman. I told her that I hated her that I'd never loved her. Yet I didn't hate her just like I'd never loved her. I wanted to know if it made sense to speak at all. I told her that I hated her tenderness, her faithfulness, her being so neat and precise. I was revolted by the blind trust with which she clung to me.

She looked at me disapprovingly and went off to heat up my supper. I just stood there and yelled. For three days, we stayed indoors. She kept walking behind me. She only started crying on the second day. She stood crying in her nightie. She didn't sob, she just whimpered. Just wailing without moving. Then she crawled into the corner and would not move.

I was looking at her nightie. All I saw was the nightie, that lacy nylon nightie. Then I jumped on her. I pulled it and tore it. I ripped it. But she still didn't understand. She just kept clinging to me and repeating something to me. Then she went into the bathroom and locked the door.

I just watched the buckets of coal in the air and counted them. Then I started all over again and counted them again. I don't know how long it lasted. It was dawn by the time I broke the door down. It was what I'd expected, but even so it shocked me. I couldn't believe that frail body had so much blood in it.

Just as I'd never have believed there'd be somebody I could trust the way I trust you, someone who could make me believe it is worth speaking. I know you understand that I love you and that it's not over. And that you're able to step out of this story like any other. And I don't want anything, only that we should get out of this pigsty forever and never lose each other again.