A priest never grows up, because he can never become a father. He’ll always be a son. That is why we imposed a vow of celibacy on ourselves thirteen centuries ago, because we must always be the sons of God, never dare try to take His place.
You’re adopted, and we don’t talk about that enough. ‘Cause to me, you are every part my son. Maybe I don’t want you to feel like you stand out. But I need you to know something. I want you to stand out. I want all of you to be as different as you can possibly be. In all the best ways. I love you as much as a human heart can, kiddo. You are an exceptional young man.[to Randall]
What is honor compared to a woman’s love? And what is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms? Or a brother’s smile?
It takes a deep kind of despair for a son to kill his father. It’s a kind of rage that you can’t escape from.
A turn here, a turn there, and it goes on for years. Becomes something else. I’m sorry, you know, for the man I became, the father I was. I hope you got the strength to learn from that. And I hope you got no doubts how much I loved you, son. And you’re better than me. If I had been stronger, I would have been more like you. Hell, son, if everyone was stronger, they’d be more like you.
The moment I saw you, I knew you were my boy. You weren’t a choice, Randall, you were a fact. You were never a replacement, son. Do you understand?