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“dear ghost i made
i was raised with a healthy fear of the dark.
i turned the light bright, but you just kept
being born, kept coming for me, kept being
so dark, i got sca … i was doing my job.
”

“this, our handcrafted religion.
we are small gods of redemption.
we dance until guilt turns to sweat.
we sweat until we flood & drown.
don’t fret, we don’t die. they can’t kill
the boy on your shirt again.”

“i was his secret until i wasn’t
alive until not. outside our closet
i found a garden. he would love it
here. he could love me here.”

“does it matter how he got here if we’re all here
to dance? grab a boy! spin him around!
if he asks for a kiss, kiss him.
if he asks where he is, say gone.”

“history is what it is. it knows what it did.
bad dog. bad blood. bad day to be a boy”

“Look at it carefully so that you will be sure to recognise it in
case you travel some day to the African desert. And, if you should
come upon this spot, please do not hurry on. Wait for a time,
exactly under the star. Then, if a little man appears who laughs,
who has golden hair and who refuses to answer questions, you will
know who he is. If this should happen, please comfort me. Send me
word he has come back.

“And at night you will look up at the stars. Where I live
everything is so small that I cannot show you where my star is to
be found. It is better, like that. My star will just be one of the
stars, for you. And so you will love to watch all the stars in the
heavens…they will all be your friends.”

“But the eyes are blind. One must look with the heart…”

“You are not at all like my rose,” he said.
“As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have
tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was
only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him
my friend, and now he is unique in all the world.”

“They are what make one day different from other days, one hour
from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters.
Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a
wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards.
But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like
every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all.”

“First you will sit down at a little distance from me – like
that – in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my
eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of
misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every
day…”

“Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things
all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where
one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more.”

“To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just
like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of
you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am
nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if
you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be
unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the
world…”

“It may well be that this man is absurd. But he is not so absurd
as the king, the conceited man, the businessman, and the tippler.
For at least his work has some meaning. When he lights his street
lamp, it is as if he brought one more star to life, or one flower.
When he puts out his lamp, he sends the flower, or the star, to
sleep. That is a beautiful occupation. And since it is beautiful,
it is truly useful.”

“I myself own a flower,” he continued his conversation with the
businessman, “which I water every day. I own three volcanoes, which
I clean out every week (for I also clean out the one that is
extinct; one never knows). It is of some use to my volcanoes, and
it is of some use to my flower, that I own them. But you are of no
use to the stars…”

“The flowers have been growing thorns for millions of years. For
millions of years the sheep have been eating them just the same.
And is it not a matter of consequence to try to understand why the
flowers go to so much trouble to grow thorns which are never of any
use to them? Is the warfare between the sheep and the flowers not
important?”

“I don’t believe you! Flowers are weak creatures. They are na
ïve. They reassure themselves as best they can. They believe that
their thorns are terrible weapons…” .

“Six years
have already passed since my friend went away from me, with his
sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is to make sure that I
shall not forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has
had a friend. And if I forget him, I may become like the grown-ups
who are no longer interested in anything but figures…”

“If you were to say to the grown-ups:
“I saw a beautiful house made of rosy brick, with geraniums in
the windows and doves on the roof,” they would not be able to get
any idea of that house at all. You would have to say to them:
“I saw a house that cost $20,000.” Then they would exclaim:
“Oh, what a pretty house that is!”

“Then I would never talk to that person about boa constrictors,
or primeval forests, or stars. I would bring myself down to his
level”

me, pun intended

calinescu si preda singurii clasici romani ever

"Nu se poate zice că era amor, căci, desi-i plăcea prezenta ei, totusi ii placea si mai mult ca, departe de ea, sã cugete la dânsa."

la fel

ce apucaturi de luceafar are Ieronim al naibii

"Ah! cine o spune, cine-o poate spune, si care limba e-ndestul de bogat ca sã poată exprima acea nemărginire de simtiri care se gramadese nu in amor insusi, ci in setea de amor. Ea viseaza-n fereastra... sã viseze numai... n-ar fi un pacat analiza simtirilor ei?..."

"Un inger de geniu, căci demonii sunt ingeri de geniu... ceilalti care au rămas in cer sunt cam prostuti."

so trueee

a recunoscut ca insecuritatile sale sunt problema si ca i afecteaza raționamentul. asadar (daca nu era clar pana acum) ela nu l a inselat , e doar un barbat (.) insecure care pt a isi suporta situatia apeleaza la misoginie (ca toti barbatii albi de altfel)

gheoghediu meriti sa mori labar rasist dubios ce esti

pauza de film

am ajuns la a doua parte aleluia termin si cu prostanacu asta