Ulrich Thomsen credited as playing...
Doktor. Brenner
- Dr. Brenner: [Narrating] October 13, 1913. Tuesday. A terrible and depressing thought: I no longer have any inclination to write. I feel no need of writing since I've been dealing with psychoanalysis. Yet analysis only brings suffering, bitter recognition, and disappointment, while writing brings the joy and sustenance I have always been longing for. Ever since I've been incapable of writing, I feel as if I'm not able to speak. I feel as if I've gone dumb.
- Dr. Brenner: [On the train, after having had sex with a young woman, whose name he doesn't even know] As many times before, I was shocked by how swiftly a girl could be ruined, and turned into a woman, at least in spirit.
- Dr. Brenner: [Narrating, having administered himself a dose of morphine] The essence of life is such an expensive commodity, that through the centuries, entire generations receive a mere hour of it all told. He who accepts this accepts the fact that he must die even before he is born. But he, the one who has forever been obsessed with poison, should extract 14 hours to himself from every day. These 14 hours are equal to 8,000 years of life lived by 400 generations. But let's just say 5,000. Which means that in the course of just one day, I live 5,000 years. In one year, this comes to approximately two million years.
- Professor Winter: [Reading aloud a passage from one of Dr. Brenner's short stories] "Assuming that you start smoking opium as a strong, mature man and pay meticulous attention to your health - best left to a good doctor - you can live ten years. And then, having reached the age of twenty million, you can lay your head down on the ice-cold pillow of perdition. Blaring accords of light roar unrestrained in the morning streets."
- Professor Winter: [Now addressing Dr. Brenner directly] If I understand correctly, this story is the confession of an opium smoker. Congratulations. You write extremely sensitively in your short story. Tell me, where did you get this insight from?
- Dr. Brenner: [Casually shrugging, obviously not wishing to reveal that he himself is an addict] I'm a doctor.
- Professor Winter: [Maintaining a cold air of skepticism] You write so authentically. I wonder if this is pure imagination. Or reality itself?
- Dr. Brenner: [Now becoming somewhat uncomfortable] Of course. It's just fantasy.
- Dr. Brenner: Your writings are very interesting. Do you know that?
- Gizella: I do.
- Dr. Brenner: How long have you been writing?
- Gizella: Since I was brought here.
- Dr. Brenner: Why were you brought here?
- Gizella: Because I'm mad.
- Dr. Brenner: And why did you go mad?
- Gizella: Why did I go mad?... Because I have no brain.
- Professor Winter: Good evening. I finished your book the other day. I wasn't wrong. You're a monster.
- Dr. Brenner: I'm honored.
- Dr. Brenner: I am writing about Evil.
- Professor Winter: How interesting. Continue.
- Dr. Brenner: I'm getting acquainted with it.
- Professor Winter: You don't say. What's it like?
- Dr. Brenner: Dim... and strong.
- Professor Winter: And what about the plot?
- Dr. Brenner: The hero has to commit a sin to win the trust of Evil.
- Professor Winter: [Disdainfully] You writers... You infect people's souls with your scribbles.
