War and Peace

I wanna discover what it is that men
and women feel when they say they love.

You see, there's enough
to keep me busy.

It's hard for you to understand
someone like me.

Everything is so clear for you.
You always know exactly what
you must do and you do it.

- Exactly.
- You're different from me.

You study, you become enlightened.
I study, I become confused.
You love, you marry.
You believe, you act.

There's a war, you serve.
How wonderful it would be if
I really answered to your description.

- You do, I tell you.
- Shall I show you how wrong you are?

I know you. I'm not wrong.
Do you know why
I'm going to the war?

You think it's because I think
that Napoleon is a monster?

You think I believe that we have any
business fighting Austria's battles...

2,000 miles from home?
You think that I think Russia will be
a greater nation when this war is over?

Then why are you going?
Because I'm married to one of
the most loving and honorable...

and attractive women in Moscow...
and I can't stand it.
Never, never marry, Pierre.
Or if you must marry, marry when
you're old and good for nothing.

Or else everything that is fine
and noble in you will be lost.

You'll waste yourself on trifles.
Yes, yes, don't look at me
like that.

You talk of Bonaparte
and his career.

If Bonaparte had married
when he was young...

he'd still be a half-pay captain
in Marseilles...

going to dinner parties
and carrying his wife's handbag...

and inviting idiots to his house
because his wife...

wanted to be invited
to their houses.