If Jesus had been killed 20 years ago, Catholic school children would be wearing little electric chairs around their necks instead of crosses.

[Eve:] “What's the singing of the birds, Adam?”

[Adam:] “The birds themselves that become air. To sing is to spill oneself in drops of air, in threads of air, to tremble. Then the birds are ripe and their throat falls in leaves, and their leaves are soft, pungent, sometimes quick.”

[…]

[Eve:] “I want to sing! I have some stiffled air, an air of bird and me… I will sing!”

[Adam:] “You are always singing but don't realize it. You are just as water. The rocks don't realize it either and their silent minerals gather and sing, silently.”

If one could find what ought to be said, when all the words have left the field like scared pigeons!

The last three minutes of this film [Requiem for a Dream]… like staring into the sun.

Upon waking, the dinosaur was still there.

Ethics is the aesthetics of behavior.

May it bite and clamor vengeful,
rolling in the dust, your head!

…one of those phrases in the middle of the night, mixed with sheets and furry mouth, almost always in the dark or with a little hand or foot brushing the body of the one who barely listens…

The night drags along. In their wandering, the two men encounter their friend Adriana, a toothless woman, old beyond her age. She runs towards the doors of La Chapelle carrying two parcels of leather bags and perfume bottles she tries to sell to passerbys. To summarize her life, Adriana says simply: “I'm a hooker and a thief, and everything for the crack.” She can afford a hotel room, but finds no rest there: “I'm afraid of loneliness. I need to see the world.” As she leaves, she bends down as if to pick up something, but returns everytime emptyhanded. Laurent explains: “It's the 'pecking'. The big smokers have hallucinations, they think they see the cookie in the floor and bend down to get it. With prostitution, the girls always have money and thus consume more than men, they waste themselves very fast.”

Sown in the days manure
I watch my love grow