It’s funny how you think you don’t love someone anymore and then you see them at that moment where they’re just really being them, doing that thing that’s inherently part of their soul, and you’re like “fuck I love this person so much”. Fuck.
“Writers and filmakers, that is, people who describe the world, suffer from an occupational disease. They never experience moments in life quite spontaneously. You always look at yourself from the outside. Even as a child I always observed myself and the world. I believe that everyone who chooses this path in any way, who chooses to be a describer of life, suffers from this condition. It’s like a mental obsession. It can be a great pity too. It robs you of a certain joy in spontaneity.”—Michael Haneke, from My Life (2009)
“What goes around may come around, but it never ends up exactly the same place, you ever notice? Like a record on a turntable, all it takes is one groove’s difference and the universe can be on into a whole ‘nother song.”—Thomas Pynchon, Inherent Vice (via likeafieldmouse)