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Lasciatemi: Ho troppo sofferto! La gloria m’aspetta laggiù! Forza umana non c’è che mi trattenga! Io seguo la mia sorte! Son tutto una febbre, son tutto un delirio! Ogni senso è un martirio feroce! Ogni fibra dell’anima ha una voce che grida...
TURANDOT!
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Never gonna fall for modern love  ❤ ♡ ♥
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When you least expect it, Nature has cunning ways of finding our weakest spot. Just remember: I am here. Right now you may not want to feel anything. Perhaps you never wished to feel anything. And perhaps it’s not to me that you’ll want to speak about these things. But feel something you obviously did.
You had a beautiful friendship. Maybe more than a friendship. And I envy you. In my place, most parents would hope the whole thing goes away, to pray that their sons land on their feet. But I am not such a parent. In your place, if there is pain, nurse it. And if there is a flame, don’t snuff it out. Don’t be brutal with it. We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster, that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to make yourself feel nothing so as not to feel anything ― what a waste!
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What is more beautiful, my love? Love lost or love found? Don’t laugh at me, my love. I know it, I’m awkward and naive when it comes to love, and I ask questions straight out of a pop song. This doubt overwhelms me and undermines me, my love. To find or to lose? All around me, people don’t stop yearning. Did they lose or did they find? I can’t say. An orphan has no way of knowing. An orphan lacks a first love, a love for his mama and papa. That’s the source of his awkwardness, his naiveté. You said to me, on that deserted beach in California, “you can touch my legs.” But I didn’t do it. There my love, is love lost. That’s why I’ve never stopped wondering since that day, where have you been and where you are now? And you, shining gleam of my misspent youth, did you lose or did you find? I don’t know, and I will never know. I can’t even remember your name, my love. And I don’t have the answer. But this is how I like to imagine it, the answer. In the end, my love, we have no choice. We have to find.
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Mathilda: I don't wanna lose you, Leon.
Léon: You're not going to lose me. You've given me a taste for life. I wanna be happy. Sleep in a bed, have roots. And you'll never be alone again, Mathilda. Please, go now, baby, go. Calm down, I'll meet you at Tony's in an hour, I love you, now go, go now.
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Hoy es un día muy muy triste. Durante 11 años, para mí han sido como hermanos invisibles que no se han separado de mí ni en mañanas de somnolencia, ni en tardes aciagas de apatía, ni en noches de fiesta ni, sobre todo, en madrugadas de llantos. Siempre dándome una fuerza inaudita desde detrás del altavoz.
Solo pude verlos una vez en directo, pero a fuego se me queda grabado ese 21 de diciembre de 2012. El fin del mundo le llamaban. Al menos para mí, habría acabado de putísima madre.
Aquí un corazón triste que se despide de un mundo en el que Tenpel solo será un recuerdo maravilloso. Duerme, duerme negrito.
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It's like I'm reading a book... and it's a book I deeply love. But I'm reading it slowly now. So the words are really far apart and the spaces between the words are almost infinite. I can still feel you... and the words of our story... but it's in this endless space between the words that I'm finding myself now. It's a place that's not of the physical world. It's where everything else is that I didn't even know existed. I love you so much. But this is where I am now. And this is who I am now. And I need you to let me go. As much as I want to, I can't live in your book any more.
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film poster for “Her” by Spike Jonze
instagram.com/lonsdalesme
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“What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though.”
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Daria Theodora (American, Boston, MA, USA) - Illustration for The Catcher in the Rye, 2014 Ink, Watercolors, +Digital 
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All you’ve ever wanted was someone to truly look up to you And six feet under ground now I... Now I do 
Thanks for so much. The man leaves but the myth remains #RIPChester
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Exactly🍷
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It's just, people have these romantic projections they put on everything. That's not based on any kind of reality.
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Joel: [in the house on the beach] I have to go. I have to catch my ride.
Clementine: So go!
Joel: I did. I thought maybe you were a nut... but you were exciting.
Clementine: I wish you had stayed.
Joel: I wish I had stayed too. NOW I wish I had stayed. I wish I had done a lot of things. I wish I had... I wish I had stayed. I do.
Clementine: Well I came back downstairs and you were gone!
Joel: I walked out, I walked out the door!
Clementine: Why?
Joel: I don't know. I felt like a scared little kid, I was like... it was above my head, I don't know.
Clementine: You were scared?
Joel: Yeah. I thought you knew that about me. I ran back to the bonfire, trying to outrun my humiliation, I think.
Clementine: Was it something I said?
Joel: Yeah... you said "so go." With such disdain, you know?
Clementine: Oh, I'm sorry.
Joel: It's okay.
[Walking Out]
Clementine: Joely? What if you stayed this time?
Joel: I walked out the door. There's no memory left.
Clementine: Come back and make up a good-bye at least. Let's pretend we had one.
[Joel comes back. Clementine walks down the stairs towards him]
Clementine: Bye Joel.
Joel: I love you.
Clementine: Meet me... in Montauk...
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“Vivre sa vie”, una lección de fotografía fímica
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“Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.”
-Park, Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell
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Never say never
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I want to ride it where I like
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