Lawyers, doctors, plumbers, they all made the money. Writers? Writers starved. Writers suicided. Writers went mad.
the history of melancholia includes all of us.
and the color in my eyes has gone back into the sea.
You have to die a few times before you can really live.
We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting
of one hundred movies there's one that is fair, one that's good and ninety eight that are very bad. most movies start badly and steadily get worse