History Is The Propaganda Of The Victors.

God Is An Oppressor, He Is Incapable Of Human Sympathy; Behind A Smiling Face He Hides An Evil Heart.

Compared To A Novel, A Film Is Like An Economy Pizza Where There Are No Olives, No Ham, No Anchovies, No Mushrooms, And All You’ve Got Is The Dough.

[she] Knew That It Was Not Precisely A Body That One Loved. One Loved The Man Who Shone Out Through The Eyes And Used Its Mouth To Smile And Speak.

Money Has No Religion Except Itself.

Love Is Not Breathlessness; It Is Not Excitement; It Is Not The Promulgation Of Promises Of Eternal Passion. That Is Just Being “in Love”, Which Any Of Us Can Convince Ourselves We Are. Love Itself Is What Is Left Over When Being In Love Has Burned Away, And This Is Both An Art And A Fortunate Accident.