How many wrongs...?

I always believed that fear belonged to other people. Weaker people. It never touched me. And then it did. And when it touches you, you know... that it's been there all along. Waiting beneath the surfaces of everything you loved.

Aufwiedersehen Lenin!

Der Wind der Wende wehte bis zu den Ruinen unserer Republik.
Der Sommer war gekommen und Berlin war der schönste Ort auf Erde.
Wir hatten das Gefühl das Zentrum der Welt zu sein. Dort, wo sich etwas bewegte, und wir bewegten uns damit auch. Die Zukunft lag in unsren Händen, unwissend und viel versprechend.

I am you!

• Is there anything that you have done that is good, Nicholas? You came to Africa to play the white man. But we aren't a game. We're real. This room is real. Your death will be the first real thing that has happened to you.
  


• They take you to a tree and hang you by your skin. Each time you scream the evil comes out of you. Sometimes, it can take three days for your evil to be spent. Pull him up.
  


• I know who you are and what you are. I am you!
  
  

Quel est donc ce lien entre nous?

Quel est donc
Ce lien entre nous
Cette chose indéfinissable ?
Où vont ces destins qui se nouent
Pour nous rendre inséparables ?

On avance
Au fil du temps
Au gré du vent...
On vit au jour le jour
Nos envies, nos amours
On s'en va sans savoir
On est toujours
Dans la même histoire...

Quel est donc
Ce qui nous sépare
Qui par hasard nous réunit ?
Pourquoi tant d'allers, de départs
Dans cette ronde infinie ?

On avance
Au fil du temps
Au gré du vent... ainsi...
On vit au jour le jour
Nos envies, nos amours
On s'en va sans savoir
On est toujours
Dans la même histoire...

I'll learn how to swim

Josef: I thought um, you and I, maybe we could go away somewhere. Together. One of these days. Today. Right now. Come with me.
Hanna: No, I don't think that's going to be possible.
Josef: Why not?
Hanna: Because I think that if we go away to someplace together, I'm afraid that... one day, maybe not today, maybe, maybe not tomorrow either, but one day, suddenly I may begin to cry and cry so very much that nothing or nobody can stop me and the tears will fill the room and I won't be able to breath and I will pull you down with me and we'll both drown.
Josef: I'll learn how to swim, Hanna. I swear, I'll learn how to swim.

Se muore lei, per me tutta questa messa in scena del mondo che gira, posso anche smontare, portare via, schiodare tutto, arrotolare tutto il cielo e caricarlo su un camion col rimorchio, possiamo spengere questa luce bellissima del sole che mi piace tanto... ma tanto... lo sai perchè mi piace tanto? Perchè mi piace lei illuminata dalla luce del sole, tanto... portar via tutto questo tappeto, queste colonne, questo palazzo...
Attilio (La tigre e la neve)

And above all, not hurting the object of your love.

William Parrish: Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with? Fall head over heels.
I say find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back. And how do you find him? Forget your head and listen to your heart. I'm not hearing any heart. Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back.
Because, the truth is there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love - well, you haven't lived a life at all.
You have to try. Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived.

Joe Black: I don't care Bill. I love her.
William Parrish: How perfect for you - to take whatever you want because it pleases you. That's not love.
Joe Black: Then what is it?
William Parrish: Some aimless infatuation which, for the moment, you feel like indulging - it's missing everything that matters.
Joe Black: Which is what?
William Parrish: Trust, responsibility, taking the weight for your choices and feelings, and spending the rest of your life living up to them. And above all, not hurting the object of your love.
Joe Black: So that's what love is according to William Parrish?
William Parrish: Multiply it by infinity, and take it to the depth of forever, and you will still have barely a glimpse of what I'm talking about.

Grbavica: Land of My Dreams

Sarajevo ljubavi moja
Zajedno smo rasli grade ja i ti,
isto plavo nebo poklonilo nam stih,
ispod Trebevica sanjali smo sne,
ko ce brze rasti ko ce ljepsi biti.
Ti si bio velik a rodio se jas
Igmana uz osmijeh slao si mi san
djecak koji raste zavolio te tad
ostao je ovde vezan za svoj grad.
Bilo gdje da krenem o tebi sanjamputevi me svi tebi vode,
cekam s nekom ceznjom na svijetla tvoja
Sarajevo ljubavi moja,
Pjesme svoje imas i ja ih pjevam
zelim da ti kazem sta sanjam
radosti su moje i sreca tvoja
Sarajevo ljubavi moja.

Kada prodju zime i dodje lijepi maj
djevojke su ljepse ljubavi im daj
setaliste tamno uzdasima zri
neke oci plave neke rijeci njezne.
Sad je djecak covjek i zima pokri brijeg
park i kosa bijeli al otici ce snijeg
proljece i mladost ispunice tad
Sarajevo moje jedini moj grad.

Sarajevo, love of mine
We grew up together city, you and me
the same blue sky gave us rhymes
under Trebevic we dreamt dreams
who will grow faster who will be nicer.
You were great, and I was born
From Igman with a smile you sent me my dreams
A boy growing up fell in love with you then
He stayed here, connected to his city
Wherever I turn, I dream of you
All roads lead me to you
I wait with some longing for your lights
Sarajevo love of mine

You have your songs, and I sing them
I want to tell you what I dream
The pleasures are mine and happiness yours
Sarajevo love of mine
When the cold passes and fine May comes
The girls are nicer, give them love
Walk the walk ways with sighs in the dark
Some blue eyes, some tender words
Now the boy is a man and the winter covers the mounatin
The park and hair is grey, but the snow will go away
Spring and youth will then fill
my Sarajevo, my only city

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime...

A la claire fontaine, m'en allant promener,
J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle que je m'y suis baigné.
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, jamais je ne t'oublirai,

Sous les feuilles d'un chêne, je me suis fait sécher.
Sur la plus haute branche, un rossignol chantait.
Chante, rossignol, chante, toi qui as le coeur gai.
Tu as le coeur à rire, moi je l'ai-t-à pleurer.

J'ai perdu ma maitresse sans l'avoir mérité.
Pour un bouquet de roses que je lui refusai.
Je voudrais que la rose fût encore au rosier.
Et moi et ma maîtresse dans les mêm's amitiés.
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, jamais je ne t'oublirai.

Mar Adentro

"Mar adentro, mar adentro.
Y en la ingravidez del fondo, donde se cumplen los sueños.
Se juntan dos voluntades para cumplir un deseo.
Un beso enciende la vida con un relámpago y un trueno.
Y en una metamorfosis mi cuerpo no es ya mi cuerpo.
Es como penetrar al centro del universo.
El abrazo más pueril y el más puro de los besos,
hasta vernos reducidos en un único deseo.
Tu mirada y mi mirada
como un eco repitiendo sin palabras: más adentro, más adentro.
Hasta el más allá del todo por la sangre y por los huesos.
Pero me despierto siempre y siempre quiero estar muerto.
Para seguir con mi boca enredada en tus cabellos".
Ramón Sampedro (Mar Adentro)

"Me resisto a caer en esa inercia en la que sólo puedo agradecer lo que se me da porque no me queda más remedio que aceptarlo".
Ramón Sampedro (Mar Adentro)

Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici

V: Good evening, London. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any bloke.
But in the spirit of commemoration, thereby those important events of the past usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, a celebration of a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this November the 5th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why?
Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame?

Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease.
There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent.

Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked.

But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgotten.

Evey Hammond: Who are you?
V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what and what I am is a man in a mask.
Evey Hammond: Well I can see that.
V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.

V: Violence can be used for good.
Evey Hammond: What are you talking about?
V: Justice.

Evey Hammond: Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici.
V: By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.

Delia Surridge: Thank you. Is it meaningless to apologize?
V: Never

V: This may be the most important moment of your life... commit to it

V: I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence.

V: The only thing that you and I have in common, Mr. Creedy, is we're both about to die.

V: What was done to me was monstrous.

V: Did you think to kill me? There’s no flesh or blood within this cloak to kill. There’s only an idea and ideas are bulletproof.

Are you up for a pint?

Jackie O'Shea: Michael O'Sullivan was my great friend. But I don't ever remember telling him that. The words that are spoken at a funeral are spoken too late for the man who is dead.
What a wonderful thing it would be to visit your own funeral. To sit at the front and hear what was said, maybe say a few things yourself. Michael and I grew old together...but at times, when we laughed, we grew young.
If he was here now, if he could hear what I say, I'd congratulate him on being a great man, and thank him for being a friend.

Jackie: There will be cursing in heaven tonight, Ned Devine.

Is it any fun?

Glenn Holland: I'm 60 years old, Gene. What are you going to do: write me a recommendation for the morgue?

Glenn Holland: Well, I guess you can cut the arts as much as you want, Gene. Sooner or later, these kids aren't going to have anything to read or write about.

Glenn Holland: The day they cut the football budget in this state, that will be the end of Western Civilization as we know it!

Gertrude Lang: So it might be easy for him to think himself a failure. But he would be wrong, because I think that he's achieved a success far beyond riches and fame. Look around you. There is not a life in this room that you have not touched, and each of us is a better person because of you. We are your symphony Mr. Holland. We are the melodies and the notes of your opus. We are the music of your life.

Glenn Holland: You work for 30 years because you think that what you do makes a difference, you think it matters to people, but then you wake up one morning and find out, well no, you've made a little error there, you're expendable. I should be laughing.

Glenn Holland: Playing music is supposed to be fun. It's about heart, it's about feelings, moving people, and something beautiful, and it's not about notes on a page.

...hearts of men are easily corrupted.

It began with the forging of the Great Rings.
Three were given to the Elves; immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings.
Seven, to the Dwarf Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls.
And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of Men, who above all else desire power.

For within these rings was bound the strength and the will to govern over each race. But they were all of them deceived, for a new ring was made.

In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret, a master ring, to control all others. And into this ring he poured all his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life. One ring to rule them all.

One by one, the free peoples of Middle Earth fell to the power of the Ring. But there were some who resisted. A last alliance of men and elves marched against the armies of Mordor, and on the very slopes of Mount Doom, they fought for the freedom of Middle-Earth.
Victory was near, but the power of the ring could not be undone.
It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the king, took up his father's sword. And Sauron, enemy of the free peoples of Middle-Earth, was defeated.

The Ring passed to Isildur, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever, but the hearts of men are easily corrupted. And the ring of power has a will of its own. It betrayed Isildur, to his death. And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost.

History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, when chance came, the ring ensnared another bearer.

The ring came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels under the Misty Mountains, and there it consumed him. The ring gave to Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind; and in the gloom of Gollum's cave, it waited. Darkness crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor grew of a shadow in the East, whispers of a nameless fear, and the Ring of Power perceived. Its time had now come. It abandoned Gollum.

But then something happened that the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable. A hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire.

For the time will soon come when hobbits will shape the fortunes of all...

Ain't love grand?

She'll only break your heart, it's a fact. And even though I warn you, even though I guarantee you that the girl will only hurt you terribly, you'll still pursue her... Ain't love grand?

(Great expectations)

From physical, metaphysical, illusional...and back.

Classes will dull your mind, destroy the potential for authentic creativity.
John Nash

I need to believe that something extraordinary is possible.
Alicia

Find a truly original idea. It is the only way I will ever distinguish myself. It is the only way I will ever matter.
John Nash

I've gotten used to ignoring them and I think, as a result, they've kind of given up on me. I think that's what it's like with all our dreams and our nightmares, Martin, we've got to keep feeding them for them to stay alive.
John Nash

There's no point in being nuts if you can't have a little fun.
John Nash

Imagine if you suddenly learned that the people, the places, the moments most important to you were not gone, not dead, but worse...they've never been.
What kind of hell would that be?
Dr. Rosen

I've made the most important discovery of my life. It's only in the mysterious equation of love that any logical reasons can be found.
I'm only here tonight because of you.
You are the only reason I am... you are all my reasons.
John Nash

Latest 5

"Even the lowest whisper can be heard over armies... when it's telling the truth."
Edmond Zuwanie (The Interpreter)

I trust people. I just don't trust the devil inside them.
Stella (The Italian Job)

I don't want to move to a city where the only cultural advantage is being able to make a right turn on a red light.
Alvy Singer (Annie Hall)

-What if you had to tell someone the most important thing in the world, but you knew they'd never believe you?
-I'd try
Doug Carlin (Dèjá vú)

-We all need mirrors to remind ourselves who we are. I'm no different.
Leonard Shelby (Memento)

Non...merci

Et que faudrait-il faire?

Chercher un protecteur puissant, prendre un patron, et comme un lierre obscur qui circonvient un tronc et s'en fait un tuteur en lui léchant l'écorce, grimper par ruse au lieu de s'élever par force?
Non, merci.

Dédier, comme tous le font, des vers aux financiers? Se changer en bouffon dans l'espoir vil de voir, aux lèvres d'un ministre, naître un sourire, enfin, qui ne soit pas sinistre?
Non, merci.

Déjeuner, chaque jour, d'un crapaud? Avoir un ventre use par la marche? Une peau qui plus vite, à l'endroit des genoux, devient sale? Exécuter des tours de souplesse dorsale?. . .
Non, merci.

D'une main flatter la chèvre au cou cependant que, de l'autre, on arrose le chou, et, donneur de séné par désir de rhubarbe, avoir son encensoir, toujours, dans quelque barbe?
Non, merci!

Se pousser de giron en giron, devenir un petit grand homme dans un rond, et naviguer, avec des madrigaux pour rames, et dans ses voiles des soupirs de vieilles dames?
Non, merci!

Chez le bon éditeur de Sercy faire éditer ses vers en payant?
Non, merci!

S'aller faire nommer pape par les conciles que dans des cabarets tiennent des imbéciles?
Non, merci!

Travailler a se construire un nom sur un sonnet, au lieu d'en faire d'autres?
Non, merci!

Ne découvrir du talent qu'aux mazettes? Être terrorisé par de vagues gazettes, et se dire sans cesse 'Oh, pourvu que je sois dans les petits papiers du "Mercure François"?'
Non, merci!

Calculer, avoir peur, être blême, aimer mieux faire une visite qu'un poème, rédiger des placets, se faire présenter?
Non, merci! non, merci! non, merci!

Mais. . .chanter, rêver, rire, passer, être seul, être libre, avoir l'oeil qui regarde bien, la voix qui vibre, mettre, quand il vous plaît, son feutre de travers, pour un oui, pour un non, se battre,--ou faire un vers!
Travailler sans souci de gloire ou de fortune, à tel voyage, auquel on pense, dans la lune!
N'écrire jamais rien qui de soi ne sortit, et modeste d'ailleurs, se dire mon petit, soit satisfait des fleurs, des fruits, même des feuilles, si c'est dans ton jardin à toi que tu les cueilles!
Puis, s'il advient d'un peu triompher, par hasard, ne pas être obligé d'en rien rendre à César, vis-à-vis de soi-même en garder le mérite.
Bref, dédaignant d'être le lierre parasite. Lors même qu'on n'est pas le chêne ou le tilleul.
Ne pas monter bien haut, peut-être, mais tout seul!

(Cyrano de Bergerac)