Salt And The Center Of The World

Of All Our Feelings The Only One Which Really Doesn't Belong To Us Is Hope. Hope Belongs To Life, It's Life Itself Defending Itself. Etcetera.

I Think It Is Vanity To Want To Put Into A Story Anything But The Story Itself.

I Realized That Searching Was My Symbol, The Emblem Of Those Who Go Out At Night With Nothing In Mind, The Motives Of A Destroyer Of Compasses.

The Best Literature Is Always A Take [in The Musical Sense]; There Is An Implicit Risk In Its Execution, A Margin Of Danger That Is The Pleasure Of The Flight, Of The Love, Carrying With It A Tangible Loss But Also A Total Engagement That, On Another Level, Lends The Theater Its Unparalleled Imperfection Faced With The Perfection Of Film. I Don’t Want To Write Anything But Takes.

Everything Can Be Killed Except Nostalgia For The Kingdom, We Carry It In The Color Of Our Eyes, In Every Love Affair, In Everything That Deeply Torments And Unties And Tricks.