Marc Jarvis: I don't know.
Marc Jarvis: There is only one thing I can see clearly now.
Marc Jarvis: Life is nothing more than state of matter.
Marc Jarvis: Like a gas. Or liquid.
Marc Jarvis: A form of molecular organisation.
Marc Jarvis: And there's nothing transcendent or devine about it.
Marc Jarvis: It's only objective is to perpetuate itself through motion, change, adaptation.
Marc Jarvis: Life isn't worried about any species. Much or less, any individual.
Marc Jarvis: We are nothing more than the chunks of mud that uses it as a vehicle.
Marc Jarvis: Life is what's scary. Not death.
Marc Jarvis: But it's always on the verge of extinction.
Marc Jarvis: But it exists wherever it shouldn't.
Marc Jarvis: And the soul, you may ask, what about the soul?
Marc Jarvis: Well, maybe the soul is the bit that gets lost when you freeze the meat and then thought out again.
Marc Jarvis: Time is coming back to me now.
Marc Jarvis: Slower then ever.
Marc Jarvis: You can imagine all the things that need to be done to dismantle your life and prepare everything for when you're gone.
Marc Jarvis: Starting with the simplest.
Marc Jarvis: Telling your employees, suppliers and customers that someone else will be taking your place from now on. But not to worry. That everything will continue exactly like it has until now.
Marc Jarvis: Giving instructions on how to finish projects.
Marc Jarvis: Selling your shares.
Marc Jarvis: Leaving your business in good hands.
Marc Jarvis: Deciding what to do with your most personal projects. With your dreams.
Marc Jarvis: Telling the people you love.
Marc Jarvis: Deciding who not to tell.
Marc Jarvis: Managing all the concern you will awaken.
Marc Jarvis: Telling your mother. Explaining to her that she is going to outlive you.
Marc Jarvis: Writing your will.
Marc Jarvis: Selling your properties.
Marc Jarvis: Emptying the house of your personal belongings.
Marc Jarvis: Looking at them for the last time.
Marc Jarvis: When you get rid of everything you ever were... what's left?
Marc Jarvis: What did you wanted it to be?
Marc Jarvis: What was yet to come?
Marc Jarvis: The best was yet to come.
Marc Jarvis: The best was always yet to come.
Marc Jarvis: [narrating] Before I died, I thought there was nothing after death. Now I'm sure.
Marc Jarvis: [narrating] Imagine, you were born... totally aware and conscious of everything around you. Conscious you were coming out of someone else's body, joint to it by a bloody cord. That you are completely covered in blood. Conscious of the dry air entering your lungs for the first time; the sharp sounds in your ears; the blinding light in your eyes. Conscious that your bones are unbearably soft and your life is so fragile, it could disappear at any moment. That's what being resurrected is like.
Marc Jarvis: [narrating] When you get rid of everything you ever were, what's left? What do you want it to be? What was yet to come? The best was yet to come. The best was always yet to come.
Jeffrey: We'll be old and wrinkled by then.
Marc Jarvis: Not me. I'm gonna fuck all your grandchildren.
Elizabeth: Why should I help you?
Marc Jarvis: Because you've seen everything I have. Because you understand what I feel better than you'd like. Because I need for all of this to mean something. Because I'm all alone. Because you love me.
[Elizabeth cries heavily]
Marc Jarvis: What was it? Where did it come from? The need to constantly be seeking some unknown source of fulfillment; the hunger for experiences in life that always made me want to be everywhere except where I actually was.
Marc Jarvis: Life seemed like it was always just around the corner or in some brief moment past that only remained in memory. Never here. Never now. It was a promise always perceived intuitively... in a scent... in a glance... in the vague feelings caused by nostalgia... in the touch of a body that reminds us of the person we love. Why then not simply in the touch of the person we love?