|
jedno putovanje...
..1..
..2..
http://www.gabrielyared.com/
..3..
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_Patient
..4..
http://www.culture.privateweb.at/bernstein/laszlo.htm
..5..
i jedno Putovanje... (ie. D. Pajin's Home Page)
*
Denys: You've ruined it for me, you know.
Karen Blixen: Ruined what?
Denys: Being alone.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Out_of_Africa_%28film%29
Karen Blixen: He even took the gramophone on safari. Three rifles, supplies for a month, and Mozart.
Kit Moresby: Tunner, we're not tourists. We're travelers.
Tunner: Oh. What's the difference?
Port Moresby: A tourist is someone who thinks about going home the moment they arrive, Tunner.
Kit Moresby: Whereas a traveler might not come back at all.
Tunner: You mean I'm a tourist.
Kit Moresby: Yes, Tunner. And I'm half and half.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sheltering_Sky
Almásy: I once traveled with a guide who was taking me to Faya. He didn't speak for nine hours. At the end of it he pointed to the horizon and said, "Faya!" That was a good day.
Almásy: What do you hate most?
Katharine Clifton: A lie. What do you hate most?
Almásy: Ownership. Being owned. When you leave here, you should forget me.
Almásy: When were you most happy?
Katharine Clifton: Now.
Almásy: When were you least happy?
Katharine Clifton: Now.
Almásy: You're wearing the thimble.
Katharine Clifton: Of course, you idiot. I always wear it; I've always worn it; I've always loved you.
Hana: I'm not in love with him. I'm in love with ghosts... And so is he, he's in love with ghosts.
Seth: What's that like? What does it taste like? Describe it like Hemingway.
Maggie Rice: Well, it tastes like a pear. You don't know what a pear tastes like?
Seth: I don't know what a pear tastes like to you.
Maggie Rice: Sweet, juicy, soft on your tongue, grainy like a sugary sand that dissolves in your mouth. How's that?
Seth: It's perfect.
"One cup of it took the place of the evening papers, of all the old evenings in cafés, of all chestnut trees that would be in bloom now in this month, of the great slow horses of the outer boulevards, of book shops, of kiosques, and of galleries, of the Parc Montsouris, of the Stade Buffalo, and of the Butte Chaumont, of the Guaranty Trust Company and the Ile de la Cité, of Foyot's old hotel, and of being able to read and relax in the evening; of all things he had enjoyed and forgotten and that came back to him when he tasted that opaque, bitter, tongue-numbing, brain-warming, stomach-warming, idea-changing liquid alchemy."
"Sometimes there is so much beauty in the world, I feel like I can't take it."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Beauty_%28film%29
"As I came up the mountain, out of the misty valley into the sun. The fire on the cattle range, the potatoes in the ashes, the boathouse floating in the lake. The Southern Cross. The Far East. The Great North. The Wild West. The Great Bear Lake. Tristan da Cunha. The Mississippi Delta. Stromboli. The old houses of Charlottenburg. Albert Camus. The morning light. The child's eyes. The swim in the waterfall. The spots of the first drops of rain. The sun. The bread and wine. Hopping. Easter. The veins of leaves. The blowing grass. The color of stones. The pebbles on the stream's bed. The white tablecloth outdoors. The dream of the house in the house. The dear one asleep in the next room. The peaceful Sundays. The horizon. The light from the room in the garden. The night flight. Riding a bicycle with no hands. The beautiful stranger. My father. My mother. My wife. My child."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wings_of_Desire
|
