They luxuriated in the feeling of deep and all pervading satisfaction, a feeling of knowing absolutely that all was well with the world and them and that the world was not only their oyster it was also their linguine with clam sauce. Not only were al...
I guess it could be said that the inspiration for 'Requiem for a Dream' is watching the American dream not only destroy so many lives in the U.S., but infect the rest of the world with its obsession with getting more, ignoring the deadly effect that ...
Marion: I love you, Harry. You make me feel like a person. Like I'm me... and I'm beautiful. Harry Goldfarb: You are beautiful. You're the most beautiful girl in the world. You are my dream.
Sara Goldfarb: [about her pills] Purple in the morning, blue in the afternoon, orange in the evening. [to refrigerator] Sara Goldfarb: There's my three meals, Mr. Smartypants. [back to pills] Sara Goldfarb: And green at night. Just like that. One, tw...
Tyrone: [about the TV] Shit, this muthafucka's startin' to look a little seedy, man. Harry: What's the matter, you particular all the sudden? Tyrone: Hey, baby, I don't care if the motherfucker's growing hair just so long as we get our bread.
There's always been a lot of pressure and tension on the line. If 'Pi' didn't work out, I have no idea what my career would be. I don't think I would have gotten another shot at it. If 'Requiem for a Dream' didn't work out, they would have called me ...
There was a sky somewhere above the tops of the buildings, with stars and a moon and all the things there are in a sky, but they were content to think of the distant street lights as planets and stars. If the lights prevented you from seeing the heav...
The voice so filled with nostalgia that you could almost see the memories floating through the blue smoke, memories not only of music and joy and youth, but perhaps, of dreams. They listened to the music, each hearing it in his own way, feeling relax...
he's not a piece of meat you can job off the market by the pound. because, if you do,maish, if you do, you'll rot in hell.
I feel that writers think with their noses to the ground, and the dark stuff kind of comes to me more, even though I really am sort of an upbeat guy. It's an honest descent into darkness. And you can't have the joy without the grief - it's why we lis...
My life, my soul is anything but finished hence it is not perfect. Only masterpieces are finished and could be considered perfect. So unless you are a "David" or a "Requiem" or perhaps a "Mona Lisa" you and I are not perfect. We'll be prone to errors...
My life, my soul is anything but finished hence it is not perfect. Only masterpieces are finished and could be considered perfect. So unless you are a "David" or a "Requiem" or perhaps a "Mona Lisa" you are not perfect. We'll be prone to errors and w...
The Ph.D is one of the chosen who know that some things can never be fathomed, no matter how hard you try. What good are explanations? There is no possibility of explaining how such a work [Mozart's Requiem, in the instance] could ever have come into...
Harry Goldfarb: [Waking up after his arm was amputated] Marion? Marion? Angelic Nurse: Don't worry, you're in a hospital. Harry Goldfarb: Marion? Angelic Nurse: Who's that? She'll be sent for, she'll come. Harry Goldfarb: No... she won't. Angelic Nur...
When you forget what you ultimately stand for, you rejoice in blinding ignorance. Missing the bigger picture for the near pleasure is what humans and all living beings stand for. I guess there is no alternate way either. Because it is after all a gam...
Harry Goldfarb: [Harry has just found out that Sara is on diet pills] Does he give you pills? Sara Goldfarb: Of course he gives me pills. He's a doctor! Harry Goldfarb: What kind of pills? Sara Goldfarb: Oh... erm... a blue one, a purple one... and a...
It was a heavenly summer, the summer in which France fell and the British Expeditionary Force was evacuated from Dunkirk. Leaves were never such an intense and iridescent green; sunlight glinted on flower-studded meadows as the Germans encircled the ...
Harry: [about the failed drug score] Some dumbass junkie! Marion: Did what? Some dumbass junkie did what? You mean, you fucked it up! Harry: What the fuck is wrong with you? Marion: You promised me that everything was gonna be ok remember? I fucked t...
Can you hear me? Sighing. You were right. My requiem is well prepared. Still to be written is the poem that is never complete, an endless rubbing on the ink block, an endless dipping of the pen, an endless swoop over the white paper, the poem of my l...
Since she seen Fortune head in that big pot Miss Lydia say that room make her feel ill, sick with the thought of boiling human broth. I wonder how she think it make me feel? To dust the hands what use to stroke my breast; to dust the arms what hold m...
Le Requiem de Mozart. Un souffle de l'au-delà y plane. Comment croire, après une pareille audition, que l'univers n'ait aucun sens? Il qu'il en ait un. Que tant de sublime se résolve dans le néant, le coeur, aussi bien que l'entendement, refuse d...
