Some cities, like wrapped boxes under Christmas trees, conceal unexpected gifts, secret delights. Some cities will always remain wrapped boxes, containers of riddles never to be solved, nor even to be seen by vacationing visitors, or, for that matter, the most inquisitive, persistent travelers.

The brain may take advice, but not the heart.

Reading dreams. That's what started her walking down the road. Every day she'd walk a little further: a mile, and come home. Two miles, and come home. One day she just kept on.

Don't wanna sleep, don't wanna die, just wanna go a-travellin' through the pastures of the sky

That's the question: is truth an illusion, or is illusion truth, or are they essentially the same? Myself, I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true.

would you reach in the drawer there and give me my purse. A girl doesn't read this sort of thing without her lipstick.

Of course, at their best, movies are anti-literature and, as a medium, belong not to writers, not to actors, but to directors.