Simon Birch

Simon:
I've been thinking.

Joe:
Yeah?

Simon:
Last year we were in the squirt league, and this year we're in the pewee.

Joe:
So?

Simon:
So what do they want us to do, play baseball or urinate? Anyway, I was just thinking.

Joe:
Time is a monster that cannot be reasoned with

Simon:
You're already a bastard. Might as well be an enlightened one.

Simon:
I'm a miracle you know.

Joe:
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Simon:
Your mother is so sexy, sometimes I forget she's someone's mother.

Joe:
What if I said the same thing about your mother?

Simon:
Then I would have to commit you.

Simon:
If God's made the church bake sale a priority, we're in a lot of trouble.

Simon:
What I want to do and what I do are two separate things. If we all went around doing what we wanted all the time, there'd be chaos.

Simon:
Your mother is so sexy, sometimes I forget she's someone's mother.

Joe:
What if I said the same thing about your mother?

Simon:
I'd have you committed.

Joe:
I have faith. I just need proof to back it up.

Simon:
I said, what does coffee and donuts have to do with God?

Simon:
Who ever said church needs a continental breakfast?

Simon:
Thinking about God.

Simon:
Faith is not in a floor plan.

Joe:
My balls just turned to marbles!

Simon:
Mine just turned to BBs!

Simon:
It's the *Virgin* Mary, Eddie. What does Joseph have to do with anything?

Simon:
Ahh! It's a horse!

Simon:
I don't think God's plan includes breaking and entering.

Simon:
I don't see how pork chops could lead to intercourse, no matter how good they are.

Simon:
I look like a burn victim.

Simon:
B*obs!

Miss Leavy:
The Star of Bethlehem is not a piñata!

Simon:
Now get over there with the other flying monkeys, where you belong.

Miss Leavy:
The Virgin Mary does not chew gum.

Adult Joe Wenteworth:
Ben Goodrich legally adopted me just two days before my 13th birthday. Not a day that goes by that I don't thank God for bringing him into my life. With Simon's help, I had finally found my real father.

Simon Birch:
Sex makes people crazy.

Simon Birch:
Thank you Miss Wenteworth.

Rebecca Wenteworth:
You know what Simon? Thank you.

Simon Birch:
I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

Adult Joe Wenteworth:
When someone you love dies, you don't lose them all at once. You lose them in pieces over time, like how the mail stops coming. What I remember most to this day was my mother's scent and how I hated it when it began to disappear. First from her closets, then from her dresses she had sewn herself and then finally from her bedsheets and pillow cases. Simon and I never talked much about that day on the baseball field. It was too painful for both of us. For as much as I loved my mother, I knew that Simon loved her just as much. She was the only real mother he ever had.

Joe:
Jesus, Simon, you look like sh*t.

Joe Wenteworth:
Come on. We're late.

Simon Birch:
No, you're late. I'm just riding with you.

Simon Birch:
Not so fast. Slow down. I'm a miracle, you know.

Joe Wenteworth:
Yeah, yeah.

[Joe and Simon travel past two old men sitting down.]

Old Man #1:
[laughing] Here they come - the Wenteworth bastard and his granite mouse.

Old Man #2:
Hey, Birch, nice sidecar. What'd you use, a matchbox?

Simon Birch:
[gives them the finger] Have a nice day.

Old Man #1:
Goddam kids got no respect these days.

Simon Birch:
I was just thinking.

Joe Wenteworth:
Yeah?

Simon Birch:
Last year we played in the Squirt League, right?

Joe Wenteworth:
Uh-huh.

Simon Birch:
And this year we're in the Peewees.

Joe Wenteworth:
So?

Simon Birch:
Do they want us to play baseball or urinate? [silence] Anyway, I was just thinking.

Simon Birch:
Your mother has the best breasts of all the mothers.

Joe Wenteworth:
[trying to ignore] Yeah.

Simon Birch:
And she smells the best too.

Joe Wenteworh:
I know.

Simon Birch:
She's so sexy that sometimes I forget she's someone's mother.

Joe Wenteworth:
Okay. Okay.

Simon Birch:
I was just being honest.

Joe Wenteworth:
Well, what if I said the same thing about your mother?

Simon Birch:
I'd have you committed.

[Swimming at the quarry.]

Joe Wenteworth:
Oh! Oh, man. That's cold.

Simon Birch:
It's freezing!

Joe Wenteworth:
My bones just turned into marbles.

Simon Birch:
My bones just turned into BBs!

[Joe and Simon are sitting on deck at the quarry.]

Simon Birch:
Marjorie's getting breasts.

Joe Wenteworth:
Yeah.

Simon Birch:
And soon they'll be b*obs.

Joe Wenteworth:
I know.

Simon Birch:
Maybe she'll let us touch 'em some time if we paid her.

Joe Wenteworth:
Why don't you ask her? [calling out to Marjorie] Oh, uh, Marjorie.

Simon Birch:
[embarrassed] Stop it! Stop it!

Joe Wenteworth:
Uh, Simon has a question for you.

Marjorie:
What is it, Simon?

Simon Birch:
Nothing. Goodbye.

Joe Wenteworth:
He wants to know, uh maybe if he paid you, could he touch your br-- [Simon stops Joe by grabbing his mouth to avoid further embarrassment]

[Making their way home from the quarry.]

Simon Birch:
Your problem is that you have no faith.

Joe Wenteworth:
I got faith. I just need proof to back it up.

[Joe and Simon arrive at their grandmother's home for dinner.]

Grandmother Wenteworth:
That child is positively unnatural.

Hilde:
Most peculiar.

Grandmother Wenteworth:
And his voice, like--

Hilde:
A mouse.

Grandmother Wenteworth:
More than one. Like mice.

Hilde:
Strangled mice.

Grandmother Wenteworth:
[laughing] Strangled mice. Very good, Hilde.

[At the church, Simon expresses himself in front of everyone.]

Simon Birch:
I said, "What does coffee and doughnuts have to do with God?"

Rev. Russell:
They're merely refreshments so people can socialize and, uh, and discuss the upcoming activities.

Simon Birch:
Who ever said the church needs a continental breakfast?

Rev. Russell:
-Simon!

Simon Birch:
I doubt that God is interested in our church activities.

Rev. Russell:
-Simon!

Simon Birch:
-If God has made the church bake sale a priority, then I'd say we're all in a lot of trouble.

Rev. Russell:
Simon, what do you think you're doing sitting in a corner?

Simon Birch:
Thinking about God.

Rev. Russell:
In a corner?

Simon Birch:
Faith is not in a floor plan.

[Swimming at the quarry.]

Joe Wenteworth:
Oh! Oh, man. That's cold.

Simon Birch:
It's freezing!

Joe Wenteworth:
My balls just turned into prunes.

Simon Birch:
My balls just turned into raisins.

[Simon and Joe hear a growl of a animal and hid by a wall]

Joe Wenteworth:
What is it?

Simon Birch:
[Upon seeing a dog] Ah! It's a horse.

Joe Wentworth:
C'mon Si, all the girls think your cute.

Simon Birch:
They think I'm cute like a baby turtle. Girls don't kiss baby turtles.

Simon Birch:
Does God have a plan for us?

Rev. Russell:
I like to think He does.

Simon Birch:
-Me too. I think God made me the way I am for a reason.

Rev. Russell:
Well, I'm glad that, um, that your faith, uh, helps you deal with your, um...you know, your, your condition.

Simon Birch:
That's not what I mean. I think I'm God's instrument - that He's gonna use me to carry out His plan.

[At the nativity play]

Marjorie:
Simon, are you okay? Simon, what is it?

Simon Birch:
B*obs! [Reaches out to grab Marjorie]

[At the nativity play]

Random Kid :
GET HER, SIMON!

Joe Wenteworth:
HOLY SH*T!

[At nativity play]

Marjorie:
Get off me! [saying to Joe Wentworth]

Joe Wenteworth:
I'm trying to help!

Marjorie:
[kicks Joe in the Privates]

[At the nativity play]

Bully:
IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS, YOU LITTLE PERV!

Joe Wentworth:
[in pain after being hit in the privates from Marjorie] Hey pick on someone your own size! [Pointing at bully]

Bully:
OKAY! [And punches Joe Wentworth]

Rev. Russell:
Oh, Simon. What happened to tonight?

Simon Birch:
I don't know. Sex makes people crazy.

Simon Birch:
I want to know that there's a reason for things. I used to be certain, but now I'm not so sure. I want you to tell me that God has a plan for me, a plan for all of us. Please.

[Finding it difficult to respond with a good answer]

Rev. Russell:
Simon...I can't.

Mr. Birch:
Simon's sick.

Joe Wenteworth:
I know.

Mr. Birch:
So was I when I heard what he did last night. The whole town's talkin' about it. What a little screw-up.

Joe Wenteworth:
Hey, your son is not a screw-up. He's a hero.

Mr. Birch:
What the hell are you talkin' about?

Joe Wenteworth:
I said he's a hero. And you don't deserve him. I want you to know that.

Simon Birch:
[At Rebecca's tombstone.] Into paradise...may the angels...lead you.

Simon Birch:
[on the bus that plunged into a lake] Stop it! [Everyone looks around] I'm not going to let anything happen to any of you, understand?"

Adult Joe Wenteworth (Narrator):
[Visiting Simon's grave.] I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice, not because of his voice or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother's death but because he is the reason I believe in God. What faith I have, I owe it to Simon Birch, a boy I grew up with in Gravestown, Maine. It is Simon who had me a believer.

Adult Joe Wenteworth (Narrator):
Our Sunday school teacher was an unhappy woman by the name of Miss Leavey. Her name suited her perfectly as she was always leaving class.

Adult Joe Wenteworth (Narrator):
[At the birth scene of Simon Birch.] Simon Birch was the smallest delivery ever recorded in the history of Gravestown Memorial Hospital.

Adult Joe Wenteworth (Narrator):
Simon's father owned the Birch Granite Company. Mr. Birch was a big believer in the rock and just about everything in their house was made from granite, including Mr. Birch.

Adult Joe Wenteworth (Narrator):
Time is a monster that cannot be reasoned with. It responds like a snail to our impatience...then it races like a gazelle when you can't catch your breath.

Adult Joe Wenteworth (Narrator):
Winter left its icy chill behind and soon it was spring, then summer again. Grandmother passed away that June following a stroke. And because Hilde was always so content to just follow her lead...she had a stroke of her own and died in July. We buried them side by side. It's the way they would've wanted it. Ben Goodrich legally adopted me just two days before my thirteenth birthday. Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for bringing him into my life. With Simon's help, I had finally found my real father.

Joe Wenteworth:
Okay, you grabbed her b*obs, and you pulled her into the manger. Big deal. It could've happened to anybody. Well, maybe not anybody.

Rebecca Wenteworth:
Do your thing, Simon! Show 'em how it's done!

Miss Leavey:
Help. Please. I'm gonna strangle him. I swear to God I'm gonna strangle that little granite mouse if it's the last thing I do.