MR NOLAN: One hundred years ago, in 1859, 41 boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that greets you at the start of each semester. Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?

BOYS: Tradition, honor, discipline, excellence.

CHARLIE: Rumor has it, you did summer school.

NEIL: Yep. Chemistry. My father thought I should get ahead. How was your summer Slick?

CHARLIE: Keen.

NEIL: Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?

BOYS: Travesty. Horror. Decadence. Excrement.

KEATING: "Oh Captain, My Captain" who knows where that comes from?... Not a clue? It's from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Now in this class you can call me Mr. Keating. Or,if you're slightly more daring, Oh captain, My Captain. Now let me dispel a few rumors so they don't fester into facts. Yes, I too attended Hell-ton and survived. And no, at that time I was not the mental giant you see before you. I was the intellectual equivalent of a ninety-eight pound weakling. I would go to the beach and people would kick copies of Byron in my face. …Because we are food for worms lads. Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die. Now I would like you to step forward over here and peruse some of the faces from the past. You've walked past them many times. I don't think you've really looked at them. They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you. Their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable?   Because you see gentlmen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in.

KEATING: Thank you Mr. Dalton. Armies of academics going forward, measuring poetry. No, we will not have that here. No more of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. Now in my class you will learn to think for yourselves again. You will learn to savor words and language. No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. I see that look in Mr. Pitt's eye, like nineteenth century literature has nothing to do with going to     business school or medical school. Right? Maybe. Mr. Hopkins, you may agree with him, thinking "Yes, we should simply study our Mr. Pritchard and learn our rhyme and meter and go quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions." I have a little secret for ya. Huddle up. Huddle up! We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are all noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman: "O me, o life of the questions of these recurring, of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities filled with the foolish. What good amid these, o me, o life? Answer: that you are here. That life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.

MCALLISTER: Quite an interesting class you gave today, Mr. Keating.

KEATING: I'm sorry if I shocked you, Mr. McAllister.

MCALLISTER: Oh, there's no need to apologize. It was very fascinating, misguided though it was.

KEATING: You think so?

MCALLISTER: You take a big risk by encouraging them to be artists John. When they realize they're not Rembrandts, Shakespeares or Mozarts, they'll hate you for it.

KEATING: We're not talking artists George, we're talking free thinkers.

MCALLISTER: Free thinkers at seventeen?

KEATING: Funny, I never pegged you as a cynic.

MCALLISTER: Not a cynic, a realist. Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams, and I'll show you a happy man.

KEATING: But only in their dreams can man be truly free. 'Twas always thus, and always thus will be.

MCALLISTER: Tennyson?

KEATING: No, Keating.

NEIL: I hereby reconvene the Dead Poets Society. Welton chapter. The meetings will be conducted by myself and the other new initiates now present. Todd Anderson, because he prefers not to read, will keep minutes of the meetings. I'll now read the traditional opening message by society member Henry David Thoreau. "I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."

CHARLIE: I'll second that.

NEIL: "To put to rout all that was not life, and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.

NEIL: It was a dark and rainy night, and this old lady, who had a passion for jigsaw puzzles, sat by herself in her house at her table to complete a new jigsaw puzzle. But as she pieced the puzzle together, she realized, to her astonishment, that the image that was formed was her very own room. And the figure in the center of the puzzle, as she completed it, was herself. And with trembling hands, she placed the last four pieces and stared in horror at the face of a demented madman at the window. The last thing that this old lady ever heard was the sound of breaking glass.

NEIL: Alfred Lord Tennyson. Come my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset. And though we are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;-- One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

KEATING: Just when you think you know something, you have to look at it in another way. Even though it may seem silly or wrong, you must try! Now, when you read, don't just consider what the author thinks. Consider what you think. Boys, you must strive to find your own voice. Because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all. Thoreau said, "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation." Don't be resigned to that. Break out!

KEATING: Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn't that right, Todd?        Isn't that your worst fear? Well, I think you're wrong. I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal. "I sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world." W. W. Uncle Walt again. Now, for those of you who don't know, a yawp is a loud cry or yell. Now, Todd, I would like you to give us a demonstration of a barbaric "yawp." Come on. You can't yawp sitting down. Let's go. Come on. Up. You gotta get in "yawping" stance.

TODD: A yawp?

KEATING: No, not just a yawp. A barbaric yawp.

TODD: Yawp.

KEATING: Come on, louder.

TODD: Yawp.

KEATING: No, that's a mouse. Come on. Louder.

TODD: Yawp.

KEATING: Oh, good God, boy. Yell like a man!

TODD: Yawp!

KEATING: There it is. You see, you have a barbarian in you, after all. Now, you don't get away that easy. The picture of Uncle Walt up there. What does he remind you of? Don't think. Answer. Go on.

TODD: A m-m-madman.

KEATING: What kind of madman? Don't think about it. Just answer again.

TODD: A c-crazy madman.

KEATING: No, you can do better than that. Free up your mind. Use your imagination. Say the first thing that pops into your head, even if it's total gibberish. Go on, go on.

TODD: Uh, uh, a sweaty-toothed madman.

KEATING: Good God, boy, there's a poet in you, after all. There, close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close 'em. Now, describe what you see.

TODD: Uh, I-I close my eyes.

KEATING: Yes?

TODD: Uh, and this image floats beside me.

KEATING: A sweaty-toothed madman?

TODD: A sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain.

KEATING: Oh, that's excellent. Now, give him action. Make him do something.

TODD: H-His hands reach out and choke me.

KEATING: That's it. Wonderful. Wonderful.

TODD: And, and all the time he's mumbling.

KEATING: What's he mumbling?

TODD: M-Mumbling, "Truth. Truth is like, like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold."

KEATING: Forget them, forget them. Stay with the blanket. Tell me about that blanket.

TODD: Y-Y-Y-You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream.

KEATING: (whispering to Todd) Don't you forget this.

KEATING: Now, I didn't bring them up here to ridicule them. I brought them up here to illustrate the point of conformity: the difficulty in maintaining your own beliefs in the face of others. Now, those of you -- I see the look in your eyes like, "I would've walked differently." Well, ask yourselves why you were clapping. Now, we all have a great need for acceptance. But you must trust that your beliefs are unique, your own, even though others may think them odd or unpopular, even though the herd may go, "That's baaaaad." Robert Frost said, "Two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." Now, I want you to find your own walk right now. Your own way of striding, pacing. Any direction. Anything you want. Whether it's proud, whether it's silly, anything. Gentlemen, the courtyard is yours.