Detective Rust Cohle: I'd consider myself a realist, alright? But in philosophical terms I'm what's called a pessimist... I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self-aware. Nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself - we are creatures that should not exist by natural law... We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self, that accretion of sensory experience and feelings, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody's nobody... I think the honorable thing for our species to do is to deny our programming. Stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction - one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal.

Detective Rust Cohle: I don't sleep, I just dream.

Detective Rust Cohle: This place is like somebody's memory of a town, and the memory is fading. It's like there was never anything here but jungle.

Detective Marty Hart: Stop saying shit like that. It's unprofessional.

Detective Marty Hart: You know I've seen all the different types. We all fit a certain category. The bully... The charmer... The... uh... surrogate dad... the man possessed by ungovernable rage... the brain... and any of those types can be a good detective and any of those types can be an incompetent shitheel.

Detective Maynard Gilbough: Which type were you?

Detective Marty Hart: Oh, just a regular type dude... with a big ass dick.

Detective Marty Hart: Let's make the car a place of silent reflection from now on.

Detective Rust Cohle: People out here, it's like they don't even know the outside world exists. Might as well be living on the fucking moon.

Detective Marty Hart: There's all kinds of ghettos in the world.

Detective Rust Cohle: It's all one ghetto, man. Giant gutter in outer space.

Detective Marty Hart: So... what's the point of getting outta bed in the morning?

Detective Rust Cohle: I tell myself I bear witness. But the real answer is that it's obviously my programming. And I lack the constitution for suicide.

Detective Marty Hart: Can I ask you something? You're a Christian, yeah?

Detective Rust Cohle: No.

Detective Marty Hart: Well, what d'ya got the cross for, in your apartment?

Detective Rust Cohle: It's a form of meditation.

Detective Marty Hart: How's that?

Detective Rust Cohle: I contemplate the moment in the garden; the idea of allowing your own crucifixion.

Detective Rust Cohle: I know who I am. And after all these years, there's a victory in that.

Detective Rust Cohle: I contemplate the moment in the garden, the idea of allowing your own crucifixion.

Detective Rust Cohle: I get a bad taste in my mouth out here. Aluminum. Ash. I can smell the psychosphere.

Detective Rust Cohle: I think human consciousness, is a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self-aware, nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself, we are creatures that should not exist by natural law. We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self; an accretion of sensory, experience and feeling, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody is nobody. Maybe the honorable thing for our species to do is deny our programming, stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction, one last midnight - brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal.

Detective Rust Cohle: Can you get pills pretty easy?

[inhales deeply on cigarette]

Detective Rust Cohle: Relax, I want some.

Lucy: Speed?

Detective Rust Cohle: No! Quaaludes, anything barbital.

Lucy: Uppers are easier to get and they last longer too.

Detective Rust Cohle: Yeah, but it's not like that.

Lucy: What's it like?

Detective Rust Cohle: I don't sleep.

Detective Rust Cohle: What you mean she didn't make sense?

Charlie Lange: Like she could duck hunt with a rake. High, yeah? Talkin bout... she gonna become a nun.

Detective Rust Cohle: Why a nun?

Charlie Lange: Nah, man, she was high, fucked up. Uh... talkin bout she met a king... Yeah.

Detective Rust Cohle: Anyway that evening, it wasn't even sundown, he decided it was a good time to invite me over for dinner... which I got a problem with, right? 'Cause I'm thinkin' about Marty's wife and his two kids and how it's my daughter's birthday and I know...

[sigh]

Detective Rust Cohle: There's nothing I can do about it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but... I'm gonna have a drink.

Detective Rust Cohle: Look, I'd consider myself a realist, all right? But in philosophical terms I'm what's called a pessimist.

Detective Marty Hart: Uh, okay, what's 'at mean?

Detective Rust Cohle: Means I'm bad at parties.

Detective Marty Hart: Heh. Lemme tell ya, you ain't great outside-a parties, either.

Detective Marty Hart: [to Cohle] Listen, when you're at my house, I want you to chill the fuck out.

Detective Rust Cohle: Given how long its taken for me to reconcile my nature, I can't figure I'd forgo it on your account, Marty.

Detective Rust Cohle: I think human consciousness was a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self aware. Nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself. We are creatures that should not exist, by natural law.

Detective Marty Hart: Hmm. That sounds God-fucking-awful, Rust.