“But when we … when we press the thorn to our breast, we know … we understand … and still we do it.”

People have often asked me what my all-time favorite movie is, and when they do, I don’t have to stop and think about it. Hands down, it’s The Thorn Birds, which was actually a miniseries produced for television in 1983 — the second-most watched miniseries in television history (after Roots).

Interestingly, my second book, Looking Out for #1, achieved No. 1 on the New York Times nonfiction bestseller list during the summer of 1977, at the same time that Colleen McCullough’s novel, The Thorn Birds, was No. 1 in the fiction category. I’m not much of a fiction reader, so I didn’t even bother to read her book. Little did I know that just six years later her novel would be made into a miniseries that would become my favorite movie. Quite ironic.

The Thorn Birds miniseries begins in the 1920s and logistically centers around Drogheda, a fictional sheep station in the Australian outback. Drogheda is owned by a very wealthy and very nasty elderly widow by the name of Mary Carson (played by Barbara Stanwyck).

But the main plot of this masterpiece is the relationship between Meghann “Meggie” Cleary (played as an adult by one of the most beautiful faces ever to grace a television screen, Rachel Ward) and Ralph de Bricassart, an ambitious priest who adored Meggie even when she was a little girl (early in the series).

After years of rebuffs by Ralph, Meggie marries a cad of a fellow (Luke O’Neill, played by Bryan Brown, who, following the filming of The Thorn Birds, ended up marrying Rachel Ward in real life!) and gives birth to his child.

After the birth, Meggie goes on a sabbatical to an isolated resort island and … uh, oh … Ralph de Bricassart shows up unexpectedly. When you watch the torrid — and I do mean torrid — love scenes between the two, you can only conclude that Richard Chamberlain is one of the greatest actors of all time, considering that in real life he is openly gay.

To shorten the story, Meggie gives birth to Ralph’s son, Dane, but for years he has no idea that he is Dane’s father. Meggie tells him only after Dane’s funeral, following his death in a drowning accident.

As to great lines, there were enough of them in this brilliant miniseries to fill a book (which is precisely what Colleen McCullough did). But for this piece today, I picked Ralph de Bricassart’s dying words, when he was musing about life with Meggie in his arms.

Earlier in the movie, Ralph had told Meggie a story about a mythical bird that spends its life searching for thorn trees, and when it finds the perfect thorn, it impales itself, then dies while beautifully singing.

Realizing that he had ruined so many lives — especially Meggie’s — by being unwilling to make a total commitment to either her or the church, Ralph, referring to the story of the thorn bird, says to Meggie, “[It is] driven to the thorn, with no knowledge of the dying to come. But when we … when we press the thorn to our breast, we know … we understand … and still we do it.”

Heavy ending. The very last words in this film classic summed up the entire story. Great lines ring true, and it is so true that human beings, gifted with free will, usually know the difference between good and bad choices, yet they all too often go ahead with bad choices anyway. The fact is that free will is useless unless the owner’s will is also strong — meaning that he has the self-discipline to do what he knows is right.

When we are too weak to do the right thing, we should not be surprised when we look in the mirror and see a thorn stuck in our breast. It is, after all, the painful consequence of knowingly making a wrong choice.