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Fiindca tot timpul pierdem, pierdem prieteni, iubite, din greutate, din minte, pierdem viata, moartea, timpul,

si chiar daca am castigat c eva ce ne-am dorit foarte mult, ni se rupe, fiindca pierderile lasa locuri goale, care mai tarziu nu se vo r mai acoperi niciodata. Cand incepi sa-ti cauti alte cuvinte, mai frumoase, realizezi ca nu spui nimic din ceea ce crezi, din ceea ce ai vrut sa spui initial. Ma gandesc ce rost are, pe bune, ce rost au toate. Nu vreau sa fiu rautacios, da r de ce? De ce sa te trezesti dimineata la opt si sa vii seara acasa la noua. Intre timp mananci in f uga, esti in realitate, dar in care? A altora. Intotdeauna in realitatea altora. Niciodata in a ta, proprie, nu te traiesti niciodata pe tine insuti. Nu ai timp. O fuga continua. La sfarsit nimic. De ce sa nu faci acest sa lt direct. Direct la nimic. Pentru aceasta viata de cacat. Bucuria, fericirea, utopii. Bucuria de a te intal ni cu prietenii care sunt si ei distrusi, de serviciu, de sotie, de sot, de alte rahaturi, intotdeauna prea mult . Niciodata nimic. Niciodata acea liniste, niciodata acea eliberare a creierului, cand te simti, te simti pur si simplu pe tine si nimic altceva. Suntem fascinati de prietenie, de dragoste, fiindca nu intelegem cum al tcineva ne poate simti, se poate bucura de noi, cand noi nu facem acelasi lucru cu noi insine niciodata. Viciile altora le avem sub ochi, dar pe ale noastre, n spate. Seneca Doar oamenii mari pot avea vicii. - La Rochefoucauld Pustnic. O persoana ale carui vicii si prostii nu sunt sociabile. - Ambrose Bier ce

Dup o anumit vrst, toi oamenii au impresia c au naufragiat, c i-au ratat viaa, c via idioat, absurd - o via care nu putea fi a lor, care nu putea fi dect viaa altui entru c avem o prere prea bun despre noi nine i nu putem crede c dac am fi trit n vr viaa noastr, ea ar fi putut fi att de idioat. Nimic nu dureaz n lumea asta; totul trece, totul se preface, totul moare ca s se na sc din nou, altfel, n alt parte, cu ali oameni. Tot ceea ce spui vorbeste despre tine; mai ales cnd vorbesti despre altii. Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be tra pped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don 't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most im portant, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow alrea dy know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pu mping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is

our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off. Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not w orth it. FIGHT CLUB If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person? This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or pla ce. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war.. . our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to beli eve that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But w e won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off. It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything. You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really aw ake And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and co mplete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom. Fuck what you know. You need to forget about what you know, that's your problem. Forget about what you think you know about life, about friendship, and especial ly about you and me. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything's far away. Everything's a copy of a c opy of a copy. THE FOUNTAIN Our bodies are prisons for our souls. Our skin and blood, the iron bars of confi nement. But fear not. All flesh decays. Death turns all to ash. And thus, death frees every soul. For every shadow, no matter how deep, is threatened by morning light. All these years, all these memories, there was you. You pull me through time. THE NUMBER 23 There's no such thing as destiny. There are only different choices. Some choices are easy, some aren't. Those are the really important ones, the ones that defin e us as people. People only pray because they think God will help them if they do. THE PRESTIGE Now you're looking for the secret. But you won't find it because of course, you'

re not really looking. You don't really want to work it out. You want to be fool ed. Synecdoche, New York Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is t rue. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you c an destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won't know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chanc e to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there i s no fate, but there is: it's what you create. And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn't really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that somethin g good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so ang ry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I've felt so fuckin g hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, jus t to get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to hear a bout my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen. What was once before you - an exciting, mysterious future - is now behind you. L ived; understood; disappointing. You realize you are not special. You have strug gled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. This is everyone's experience. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter. Everyone's everyone. So you are Adele, Hazel, Claire, Olive. You are Ellen. All her meager sadnesses are yours; all her loneliness; the gray, straw-like hair; her red raw hands. It 's yours. It is time for you to understand this. Walk. As the people who adore you stop adoring you; as they die; as they move on; as y ou shed them; as you shed your beauty; your youth; as the world forgets you; as you recognize your transience; as you begin to lose your characteristics one by one; as you learn there is no-one watching you, and there never was, you think o nly about driving - not coming from any place; not arriving any place. Just driv ing, counting off time. Now you are here, at 7:43. Now you are here, at 7:44. No w you are... Gone. REVOLVER There is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will d eny even exists, until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reas on you get up in the morning. The only reason you suffer the shitty puss, the bl ood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. Fear or revere me, but please, think I'm special. We share an addiction. We're approval junkies. We 're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. The hip-hip-hoo-fucki n' rah. Look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on yo u crazy diamond, because we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the ap proval of others.

And i think I'll want to be alone

So please understand if I dont answer the phone I'll just sit and stare at my deep blue walls Until I can see nothing at all Only particles some fast some slow All my eyes can see is all I know THE JACKET Sometimes I think we live through things only to be able to say that it happened . That it wasn't to someone else, it was to me. Sometimes we live to beat the od ds. I'm not crazy even though they thought I was. I live in the same world as ev eryone else. I just saw more of it, as I'm sure you have. You can't break something thats already broken LIMITLESS There are moments in life, moment when you know you've crossed a bridge. You're old life is over. THE ILLUSIONIST Life and death. Space and time. Fate and chance. Theses are the forces of the un iverse. -I was meant to return... I just... I kept thinking I'll find around the next co rner... -What? -A real mystery. I saw remarkable things but the only mystery I never solved was ... why my heart couldn't let go of you. From the moment we enter this live we are in the flow of it. We measure it and W e mock it, but we cannot defy it. We cannot even speed it up or slow it down. Or can we? Have we not each experienced the sensation that a beautiful moment seem ed to pass to quickly, and wished that we could make it linger? Or felt time slo w on a dull day, and wished that we could speed things up a bit? THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON I was thinking how nothing lasts, and what a shame that is. Your life is defined by its opportunities... even the ones you miss It's a funny thing about comin' home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's changed is you. For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change o r stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the w orst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that start le you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people wit h a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again. You can be as mad as a mad dog at the way things went. You could swear, curse th e fates, but when it comes to the end, you have to let go. Everyone feels different about themselves one way or another, but we all goin' t he same way.

Some nights, I'd have to sleep alone. I didn't mind, I would listen to the house breathin'. All those people sleepin'. I felt... safe. It's funny how sometimes the people we remember the least make the greatest impr ession on us. ONE POINT O I'm full of bugs. I'm full of mistakes Ssshhh. Life is full of mistakes. There are changes happening, not all of them good. The bad people can save you but they won't. The good people wanna save you but t hey can't. Ya know, you're gonna feel more comfortable for a while. And you're gonna sleep. And when you wake up, everything is gonna be different. Everything is gonna be good. And the time that we woke up, is the time we fall back. It's just the beginning. 500 DAYS OF SUMMER Just because she likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn't mean she's your soul mate. Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin, and they end, with no lastin g memories made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life. Did you ever do this, you think back on all the times you've had with someone an d you just replay it in your head over and over again and you look for those fir st signs of trouble? MR NOBODY There comes a time in life where everything seems narrow. Choices have been made . I can only continue on. I know myself like the back of my hand. I can predict my every reaction. My life has been cast in cement with airbags and seatbelts. I 've done everything to reach this point and now that I'm here, I'm fucking bored . The hardest thing is knowing whether I'm still alive. You have to make the right choice. As long as you don't choose, everything remai ns possible.