Cinema returns us to anima, religion of matter, which gives each thing its special divinity and sees gods in all things and beings. Cinema, heir of alchemy, last of an erotic science.
I pressed her thigh and death smiled
Give me songs to sing and emerald dreams to dream and I'll give you love unfolding.
Blood is the rose of mysterious union.
No one thought up being. He who thinks he has, step forward.
the time to hesitate is through no time to wallowin the mire Try now we can only lose and our love become a funeral pyre