Directed by: Hal Ashby; Cinematography by: John Alonzo

Written by: Colin Higgins; Original music by: Cat Stevens

Maude

• Dreyfus once wrote from Devil's Island that he would see the most glorious birds. Many years later in Brittany, he realized they had only been sea gulls... For me, they will always be... glorious birds.

Dialogue

Harold: You hop in any car you want and just drive off?

Maude: Well, not any car. I like to keep a variety. I'm always looking for the new experience.

Harold: Maybe. Nevertheless, I think you're upsetting people. I don't know if that's right.

Maude: Well, if some people get upset because they feel they have a hold on some things, I'm merely acting as a gentle reminder: here today, gone tomorrow, so don't get attached to things. Now, with that in mind, I'm not against collecting things...

Maude: That little tree — it's in trouble. Come on. [Harold and Maude walk over to a tree growing through the sidewalk in front of a building.] Look at it. Oh, it's suffocating. Well, it's the smog. You know, people can live with it, but trees — it gives them asthma. They can't breathe. The leaves, look, they’re turning all brown. Harold, we have got to do something about this life.

Harold: What?

Maude: We'll transplant it. To the forest.

Harold: You can't do that

Maude: Why not?

Harold: This is public property.

Maude: Well, exactly.

Harold: Maude?

Maude: Hmm?

Harold: Do you pray?

Maude: Pray? No. I communicate.

Harold: With God?

Maude: With Life.

Psychiatrist: Tell me, Harold, how many of these, uh, suicides have you performed?

Harold: An accurate number would be difficult to gauge.

Psychiatrist: Well, just give me a rough estimate.

Harold: A rough estimate? I'd say... fifteen.

Psychiatrist: Fifteen?

Harold: That’s a rough estimate.

Psychiatrist: Were they all done for your mother's benefit?

Harold: No. No, I would not say "benefit."

Motorcycle Officer: License, lady?

Maude: I don't have one. I don't believe in them.

Motorcycle Officer: How long you been driving, lady?

Maude: About 45 minutes, wouldn't you say, Harold? We were hoping to start sooner; but, you see, it's rather hard to find a truck.

Motorcycle Officer: This your truck?

Maude: Oh, no, I just took it.

Harold: You sure have a way with people.

Maude: Well, they're my species!