Trompe L'Oeil

Westworld 1×7

& Bernard Lowe: I must’ve drifted off. Where were we?
    Charlie: The madman.
    Bernard Lowe: Oh. Of course. The Hatter... who says, «If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn’t.»
    Charlie: Everything would be what it isn’t?

& Bernard Lowe: ...And finally, have you ever questioned the nature of your reality?

& Charlotte Hale: This place, the people who work here are nothing. Our interest in this place is entirely in the intellectual property. The code.
    Theresa Cullen: The hosts’ minds, the storylines...
    Charlotte Hale: I don’t give a rat’s ass about the hosts. It’s our little research project that Delos cares about. That’s where the real value is.

& Charlotte Hale: You don’t fire someone who created an empire. You ask him to retire politely.

& Maeve: I told you never open your mouth that wide... unless... someone’s paying... you for it.

& Clementine: A couple more years of this and... then I can have whatever life I want. I’m gonna get my family out of the desert. We’re gonna go somewhere... cold. Someday.

& Dolores: You’re supposed to be resting...
    William: We’re riding a train full with explosives through scalping territory. Not sleepy.

& William: The only thing I had when I was a kid were books. I used to live in them. I used to go to sleep dreaming I’d wake up inside one of them ’cause they had meaning. This place, this is like I woke up inside one of those stories. I guess I just wanna find out what it means...
    Dolores: I don’t wanna be in a story. All I want is to not look forward or back. I just wanna be... in the moment I’m in.

& Clementine: Mm, you’re new. Not much of a rind on you...

---

& Lawrence: Vaya con dios, motherfuckers.

& Maeve: You don’t want to fuck with me, Felix.

& Theresa Cullen: You’re thinking there’s a connection between memory and...
    Bernard Lowe: And improvisation, yes. Out of repetition comes variation. And after countless cycles of repetition, these hosts, they were varying.

& Maeve: Always doing things for other people, aren’t you? Time to do one more thing...

& Maeve: All my life, I’ve prided myself on being a survivor. But surviving is just another loop. I’m getting out of here.

& Maeve: At first, I thought you and the others were gods... Then I realized you’re just men. And I know men.

& Maeve: You think I’m scared of death? I’ve done it a million times. I’m fucking great at it. How many times have you died?

& Theresa Cullen: Do you really think the corporation’s interest here are tourists playing cowboy?
    Bernard Lowe: The longer I work here, the more I think I understand the hosts. It’s the human beings who confuse me.

& Theresa Cullen: What’s behind this door?
    Bernard: What door?

& Theresa Cullen: Have you seen these? What is this, Bernard?
    Bernard: Doesn’t look like anything to me.

& Dr. Ford: They cannot see the things that will hurt them. I’ve spared them that. Their lives are blissful. In a way, their existence is purer than ours, freed of the burden of self-doubt.

& Theresa Cullen: You’re a fucking monster.
    Dr. Ford: Am I?

& Dr. Ford: That’s enough, Bernard. You mustn’t get yourself worked up.

& Dr. Ford: I read a theory once... that the human intellect was like peacock feathers. Just an extravagant display intended to attract a mate. All of art, literature, a bit of Mozart, William Shakespeare, Michelangelo, and the Empire State Building... Just an elaborate mating ritual.
    Maybe it doesn’t matter that we have accomplished so much for the basest of reasons. But, of course, the peacock can barely fly. It lives in the dirt, pecking insects out of the muck, consoling itself with its great beauty.

& Dr. Ford: I have come to think of so much of consciousness as a burden, a weight, and we have spared them that. Anxiety, self-loathing, guilt. The hosts are the ones who are free. Free. Here. Under my control.

& Dr. Ford: Like I said... I built all of this.

& Dr. Ford: I’m afraid our guest has grown weary. Perhaps you can help her, Bernard...

& Dr. Ford: «And in that sleep, what dreams may come.»

& Dr. Ford: We should be getting back, Bernard. We have a great deal of work to do on the new storylines...

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