Io sono ignorante, ma ho letto qualche libro. Tu non ci crederai, ma tutto quello che c'è a questo mondo serve a qualcosa. Ecco, prendi quel sasso lì, per esempio. Quale? Questo, uno qualunque. Beh, anche questo serve a qualcosa, anche questo sassetto. E a cosa serve? Serve... Ma che ne so io? Se lo sapessi sai chi sarei? Chi? Il padre eterno che sa tutto. Quando nasci, quando mori. E chi può saperlo? No. Non lo so a cosa serve questo sasso lì. Ma a qualcosa deve servire. Perché se questo è inutile, allora è inutile tutto. Anche le stelle.
I'm ignorant, but I've read a few books. You won't believe it, but everything in this world is good for something. Here, take that stone there, for example. Which one? This one, any one. Well, even this one is good for something, even this little pebble. And what is it good for? It's good for... How should I know? If I knew, you know who I'd be? Who? The Almighty, who knows everything. When you're born, when you die. And who can know that? No. I don't know what this stone is good for. But it must be good for something. Because if this is useless, then everything is useless. Even the stars.
Il Matto (Richard Basehart) to Gelsomina (Giulietta Masina), the pebble scene, La strada (1954)
Info & reflection: Gelsomina has just said "I'm no use to anyone". The pebble is his reply, but it isn't the answer. Il Matto doesn't say "this is what you're for": he refuses to answer that question and puts another in its place: if you can prove this stone is useless, then you admit everything is useless. The reductio ad absurdum climbs up to the stars. The genius of the argument is that it shifts the burden of proof: you don't have to prove you're good for something; it's the claim of uselessness that has to hold up, and it doesn't. The purpose exists even when it's invisible, even when not even God knows it.
Related in anthology
- La Strada — film note with the full plot and critical context