"You can't conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God"
I just couldn't get that out of my mind today...
President Bartlet in the cathedral
BARTLET [tired] You're a son of a bitch, you know that?
(He slowly walks up the center aisle.)
BARTLET She bought her first new car and you hit her with a drunk driver. What, was that supposed to be funny? "You can't conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God,"
says Graham Greene. I don't know who's ass he was kissing there 'cause I think you're just vindictive. What was Josh Lyman? A warning shot? That was my son. What did I ever do to yours but praise his glory and praise his name? There's a tropical storm that's gaining speed and power. They say we haven't had a storm this bad since you took out that tender ship of mine in the north Atlantic last year... 68 crew. You know what a tender ship does? Fixes the other ships. Doesn't even carry guns. Just goes around, fixes the other ships and delivers that mail. That's all it can do. [angry]
Gratias tibi ago, domine.
Yes, I lied. It was a sin. [holds out arms] I've committed many sins. Have I displeased you, you feckless thug? 3.8 million new jobs, that wasn't good? Bailed out Mexico, increased foreign trade, 30 million new acres of land for conservation, put Mendoza on the bench, we're not fighting a war, I've raised three children...
(He ascends the stairs to the Inner Sanctuary.)
BARTLET [pleading] That's not enough to buy me out of the doghouse? Haec credam a deo pio? A deo iusto? A deo scito?
(He stops at the top of the stairs and extends his arms)
BARTLET Cruciatus in crucem! Tuus in terra servus nuntius fui officium perfeci. [angry] Cruciatus in crucem. [waves dismissively] Eas in crucem!
(Bartlet turns away in anger. He descends to the lower sanctuary and lights a cigarette. He takes a single puff, drops the butt to the floor, and grinds it defiantly with his shoe. He looks back at the altar.)
BARTLET [betrayed] You get Hoynes! Bartlet holds back tears as he walks down the aisle.
"You can't conceive, my child, nor can I or anyone, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God." - Graham Greene