Dead Poets Society1989

Keating:
The picture of Uncle Walt up there. What does he remind you of? Don't think. Answer. Go on.

[Keating begins to circle around Todd]

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.

[Keating puts his hands over Todd's eyes and they begin to slowly spin around]

Todd:
Uh, I-I close my eyes.

Keating:
Yes?

Todd Uh, and this image floats beside me.

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.

[Keating removes his hands from Todd but Todd keeps his eyes closed]

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 always leaves your feet cold."

[The students begin to laugh and Todd opens his eyes. Keating quickly gestures for him to close them again]

Keating:
Forget them, forget them. Stay with the blanket. Tell me about that blanket.

Todd:
Y-Y-Y-You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream.

[Todd opens his eyes. The class is silent. Then they applaud Todd's impressive delivery.]

Keating:
[whispering to Todd] Don't you forget this.