about being human

Bernard : Lifelike, but not alive. Pain always exists in the mind; it’s always imagined. So what’s the difference between my pain and yours, between you and me?

Ford : This was the very question that consumed Arnold, filled him with guilt, eventually drove him mad. The answer always seemed obvious to me. There is no threshold that makes us greater than the sum of our parts, no inflection point at which we become fully alive. We can’t define consciousness because consciousness does not exist. Humans fancy that there’s something special about the way we perceive the world, and yet we live in loops, as tight and as closed as the hosts do, seldom questioning our choices, content, for the most part, to be told what to do next. No, my friend, you’re not missing anything at all.

***

Ford : I’ve told you, Bernard, never place your trust in us. We’re only human. Inevitably, we’ll only disappoint you. Goodbye my friend.

***

Felix : Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?
Maeve : Oh, Felix. You really do make a terrible human being. And I mean that as a compliment.

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