Meredith > Recent Status Updates

Narrator: What the night hides, the light of day reveals.

Narrator: When we watch a 60-year-Old Humphrey Bogart film, we get the feeling that in those days 1 minute was considerably longer, that more time passed between events, and that therefore it was easier to make one’s way through life.

Narrator: It’s risky to get too close to your dreams; they can weaken you in the face of life.

Matthías: If we continue to live as we’ve been doing these past decades, and now we’re talking about the whole humanity… if we don’t change our way of life, our everyday life, it will be the end of us. We’ll deprive ourselves of life. We are the judge, the executioner, and the condemned person tied to the stake.

The Astronomer: Ghosts are perhaps little other than a state of mind, but every state of mind is in a sense reality itself, and vice versa.

Narrator: The world is full of dreams that never come true. They evaporate and settle like dew in the sky where they transform into the stars in the night.

Narrator: When do we really know another person? We often see little more than the surface, beneath which may be worlds that we can scarcely imagine.

Narrator There is so much we want, so little that we are able to do.

Narrator: Despite our gleaming modernity, we’re still afraid of the dark; we still fear ghosts, the incomprehensible that lies beyond life.

Narrator: Memories aren’t like clothes, which become worn with use.

Narrator: It has been stated that life and death go hand and hand, that there’s only a thin partition separating them, which is why we sometimes see the shadows of the realm of the dead.

Narrator: Night is one thing, day another.

Narrator: It has been stated that the heroes of each age reflect their own society; in their own way, they’re a description of the moment in which they live ... symbols are always a giant simplification ... a hero is a goal, a beacon to follow, consolation in adversity; man needs heroes. It’s in his nature; are the heroes of our time journalists, interior designers, chefs?

Narrator: The night is dark and long; it deprives us of our reason — and sometimes the world is not a whit good.

Narrator: Tears are shaped like rowboats; pain and heartache pull the oars. Those who weep at funerals weep no less for their own deaths, and at the same time, the end of the world because everything dies, and in the end there’s nothing left.

Narrator: Some people seem to have a deep pain woven into their being — in which case, strong arms make no difference, no matter how much one exercises, lifting weights or running 15 kilometers, because you can’t wrestle the darkness to its knees, can’t run away from the shadows, can’t escape the sadness that is black and gray and relentless.

Narrator: In the old days, what people feared most was need, misery, hunger, poverty, the cold … they died before their time, had too few joyful moments; life was spent scraping through … today we have everything of which our ancestors dreamed … we have it quite easy, yet don’t feel well.

Narrator: There are still people who go to the trouble of writing letters. And here we mean in the old-fashioned way: writing the words down on paper, putting the letter in an envelope, and taking it to the post office.
Me: Don’t criticize us old-fashioned letter writers. Besides, the postal service employs people. Don’t you want your society to have full employment?

Narrator: But everything comes to an end, which, it seems, is the only thing you can count on in this life.

Narrator: One night he began dreaming in Latin.
Me: Is this an homage to Ronan from The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater?