It had been dark at the beach for hours, he hadn't been smoking much and it wasn't headlights – but before she turned away, he could swear he saw light falling on her face, the orange light just after sunset that catches a face turned to the west, watching the ocean for someone to come in on the last wave of the day, in to shore and safety.
PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON (1970.06.26)
It’s funny the things you can get right somehow. You just know: That makes sense, that feels right. The truth is the truth is the truth.
“What, I should only trust good people? Man, good people get bought and sold every day. Might as well trust somebody evil once in a while, it makes no more or less sense.”
-Thomas Pynchon, Inherent Vice
People in this town saw only what they'd all agreed to see, they believed what was on the tube or in the morning papers half of them read while they were driving to work on the freeway, and it was all their dream about being wised up, about the truth setting them free.
Shasta Fay Hepworth || INHERENT VICE (2014)
Yet here she was now, same getup, same carefree attitude, as if she still hadn't even met Mickey Wolfmann, as if some stereo needle had been lifted and set back down on some other sentimental oldie on the compilation LP of history.