askaboutpersonaltxt

"If you stare at the center of the universe, there is coldness there. A blankness. Ultimately, the universe doesn’t care about us. Time doesn’t care about us. That’s why we have to care about each other."

dethjunkie:

Poem: Lara Paulson Edit: Dethjunkie 

"It was probably nothing but it felt like the world."

"No sé cuánto tiempo pasó en los relojes, de ese tiempo anónimo y universal de los relojes, que es ajeno a nuestros sentimientos, a nuestros destinos, a la formación o al derrumbe de un amor, a la espera de una muerte"

nevver:

Thanks

"Pueden prometerse acciones, pero no sentimientos, porque éstos son involuntarios. Quien promete a otro amarlo siempre u odiarlo siempre o serle siempre fiel, promete algo que no está en su mano poder cumplir; lo que puede prometer son actos o manifestaciones, que si bien ordinariamente son consecuencia del amor, del odio, de la fidelidad, pueden también provenir de otras causas, puesto que caminos y motivos diversos conducen a una misma acción."

"Ella era la pequeña ventanita; el minúsculo agujero luminoso en mi sombría cueva de angustia. Era la redención, el camino de la liberación. Ella tenía que enseñarme a vivir o enseñarme a morir; ella, con su mano segura y bonita, tenía que tocar mi corazón entumecido para que al contacto de la vida floreciera o se deshiciese en cenizas. De dónde ella sacaba estas fuerzas, de dónde le venía la magia, por qué razones misteriosas había adquirido para mí esta profunda significación; sobre esto no me era posible reflexionar, además daba igual; yo no tenía el menor interés en saberlo."

"It is a lonely feeling when someone you care about becomes a stranger."


"My films are not a personal expression but a prayer. When I make a film, it’s like a holy day. As if I were lighting a candle in front of an icon, or placing a bouquet of flowers before it. The spectator always ends up by understanding when you are sincere in what you are telling him. I don’t invent any language to appear simpler, stupider, or smarter. A lack of honesty would destroy the dialogue. Time has worked for me. When people understood that I was speaking a natural language, that I wasn’t pretending, that I didn’t take them for imbeciles, that I only say what I think, then they became interested in what I was doing."
"Given the competition with commercial cinema, a director has a particular responsibility towards his audiences. I mean by this that because of cinema’s unique power to affect an auditorium—in the identification of the screen with life—the most meaningless, unreal commercial film can have just the same kind of magical effect on the uncritical and uneducated cinema-goer as that derived by his discerning counterpart from a real film. The tragic and crucial difference is that if art can stimulate emotions and ideas, mass-appeal cinema, because of its easy, irresistible effect, extinguishes all traces of thought and feeling irrevocably. People cease to feel any need for the beautiful or the spiritual, and consume films like bottles of Coca-Cola.”
Andrei TarkovskyApril 4, 1932 — December 29, 1986

"Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now. In some airless apartment on a dark, urine stained, whore lined street, someone is calling out to you silently and you are answering without even being there. So crystalline. So pure. Such life saving power when you smile. You will never know how you have cauterized my wounds. So sad that we will never touch. How it hurts me to know that I will never be able to give you everything I have."

"'Cause this music can put a human being in a trance like state and deprive it for the sneaking feeling of existing.
‘Cause music is bigger than words and wider than pictures.
If someone said that Mogwai are the stars, I would not object.
If the stars had a sound it would sound like this.
The punishment for these solemn words can be hard.
Can blood boil like this at the sound of a noisy tape that I’ve heard?
I know one thing. On Saturday, the sky will crumble together (or something) with a huge bang to fit into the cave."