Harold & Maude
written by Colin Higgins
Maude: What kind of flower would you like to be?
Harold: I don't know. One of these, maybe.
Maude: Why do you say that?
Harold: Because they're all alike.
Maude: Oh, but they're NOT! Look. See, some are smaller; some are fatter; some grow to the left, some to the right; some even have lost some petals. All kinds of observable differences! You see, Harold, I feel that much of the world's sorrow comes from people who are *this*, yet allow themselves to be treated as *that*.
(Harold is smoking from a hookah, with Maude, dressed in a kimono, sitting next to him)
Harold: I sure am picking up on vices.
Maude: Vice, virtue. It's best not to be too moral. You cheat yourself out of too much life. Aim above morality. If you appy that to life, then you're bound to live it fully.
(Harold shakes his head and sighs)
Harold: I haven't lived. I've died a few times.
Maude: What was that?
Harold: Well...uh...the first time was when I was at boarding school -- in the chemistry lab. I was in there, cleaning it up, so, uh, I decided I'd do a little experimenting, you know. So I get all this stuff out and begin mixing it up. It's very scientific. (laughs) There was this massive explosion. It knocked me down. It blew out a huge hole in the floor. There was boards and bricks and flames leaping up. I figured, you know, time to leave. My career in school was over. So, uh...I went home. My mother was giving a party so I just went up the backstairs into my room. Turned off the light, and uh, I got this funny feeling. The doorbell rang. I went out into the banister, and these two policemen came in, found my mother, and, uh...told her that I was killed in the fire. She put one hand up to her forehead. With the other one, she reached out as if groping for support and with this long sigh, she collapsed in their arms.
(Maude looks simultaneously intrigued and horrified. Harold looking at her, slowly breaks down and begins sobbing.)
Harold: I decided right then that I'd enjoy being dead.
Maude: I understand. A lot of people enjoy being dead. But they're not dead, really. They're just... backing away from life. Reach out. Take a chance. Get hurt, even! Play as well as you can. Go team! GO! Give me an L! Give me an I! Give me a V! Give me an E! L. I. V. E. LIVE! ...Otherwise, you got nothing to talk about in the locker room.
Harold: I like you, Maude.
Maude: Hmm. I like you, Harold.