Terminator 2: Judgment Day

Why do you cry?
- You mean people?
- Yeah.

I don't know.
We just cry...
you know, when it hurts.
Pain causes it?
No. It's different.
It's when there's nothing wrong
with you, but you hurt anyway.

- You get it?
- No.

All right, my man!
No problemo.
Give me five.
Just put out your hand
like this.

All right! Now hit me.
Give me five. Do the same thing.

Okay, that's good.
Up high.

Five low.
Too slow.
I'm just kidding.
One more time.

Good. Now try it.
Now do me.
Give me five.

Watching John with the machine,
it was suddenly so clear.

The Terminator would never stop.
It would never leave him,
never hurt him...

never shout at him
or get drunk and hit him...

or be too busy
to spend time with him.

It would always be there...
and it would die
to protect him.

Of all the would-be fathers
who came and went over the years...

this thing, this machine...
was the only one
who measured up.

In an insane world...
it was the sanest choice.