Carnivale

Wilfred: But you bleed like a man. Justin: What? Wilfred: He's still alive. Justin: Who? Who is still alive? Tell me. Wilfred: By the hand of the Prince, the Prophet dies. Upon his death, the Prince shall rise. Justin: Stop babbling and tell me who! Wilfred: The Gospel of Matthias. Chapter 3, verses 26 through 28. You have to kill him. You have to kill him with your own hands. Justin: Who? Wilfred: Scudder. Henry Scudder. Justin: And then what? Wilfred: You'll be the Prophet. The Usher.

Samson: Someone picks a number for this, it's gonna be me. Ben: That ain't right. Samson: No, it ain't. It just is. And in Management's book, that's the only thing that counts. Things like right and wrong... (uses his cane to push Lodz's body into a ditch) it ain't even decent show bets.

Management: Find Scudder and bring him to me. Ben: What does he have to do with this? Management: He was to me what the preacher is to you. My enemy. You saw my failure in the war. Ben: You're the Russian? Management: Yes. My name is Lucius Belyakov. Scudder knows the true name of the preacher as I knew yours, Ben Hawkins. You must bring him to me. Ben: I've already bloodied my hands once for you and I ain't gonna do it again. Management: You can't run from this. Ben: I ain't gonna do it. Management: Millions will die! Ben: I can't stop that! I'm just one man! Management: Then run, coward. Run as your father did before you.

Samson: On the heels of the skirmish man foolishly called "the war to end all wars," the dark one sought to elude his destiny. Live as a mortal. So he fled across the ocean to an empire called America. But by his mere presence, a cancer corrupted the spirit of the land. People were rendered mute by fools who spoke many words but said nothing, for whom oppression and cowardice were virtues and freedom an obscenity. And into this dark heartland the prophet stalked his enemy. Till, diminished by his wounds, he turned to the next in the ancient line of light. And so it was that the fate of mankind came to rest on the trembling shoulders of the most reluctant of saviors.