In this profession, I always admire people who are going on, who have a sort of idea and, however crazy it is, are putting it through; they are putting people and things together, and they make something. I always admire this. But I can't see his pictures. I sit for perhaps twenty-five or thirty or fifty minutes and then I have to leave, because his pictures make me so nervous. I have the feeling the whole time that he wants to tell me things, but I don't understand what it is, and sometimes I have the feeling that he's bluffing, double-crossing me.
Swedish director and screenwriter (1918–2007)
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Helena: Är du ledsen för at du har blivit gammal, Isak?
Isak: Nej. Det verkar som om allting blir värre. Värre väder, värre mänskor, värre maskiner, värre krig. Gränserna sprängs och allt det outsägliga breder ut sig och kan aldrig mere hejdas. Då är det gott att vara död.
Helena: Du er en ruskig gammal värdsfötaktare, Isak, det har du alltid varit. Jag tror inte alls som du.
Isak: Nej, nej, gudskelov för det.
Helena: Det hindrar inte att jag vill gråta. Tycker du det är otrevligt om jag gråter en liten stund. (Jon försökar gråta.) Nej, min själ det går inte. Det blir ingenting. Jag får lov att drikka litet mer konjak.
"Sometimes I go for days without speaking to a soul. I think, “I should make that call", but I put it off. Because there’s something pleasurable about not talking. But then I love talking, so it’s not that. But sometimes it can be nice. It’s not like I sit here philosophizing, because I’ve no talent for that. It’s just this thing about silence that’s so wonderful.
...we have something in common: our love for the boy Carl. We love him, it's as simple as that. When I became his stepmother, he was 26, but still a child... a highly neglected child... badly treated by his friends and his older brothers. Kind and industrious, terribly cleanly and anxiously pedantic. The great difficulty was that he was afflicted with attacks of rage. He once actually broke my nose. I care for this careless old child. I want to give him a little security. When he realises his grand project has gone the way of the world...
ياللجحيم! كيف بإمكاني أن أحصل على امرأة؟ أية امرأة؟ كان الجميع يتدبرون أمورهم ما عداي. أنا الذي كنت أمارس العادة السرية، أنا الشاحب، المتعرق، صاحب الهالات الزرقاء حول العينين، الضعيف القدرة على التركيز.
إلى جانب كل هذا، كنت نحيلاً، منكس الرأس، سريع الغضب، البادئ بالصراخ والشجار، سئ العلامات بالمدرسة ومتورم الأُذنين من العقاب.
لقد كانت السينما والمسرح هما ملاذيّ الوحيدين.
Nu citesc ziare,nu ascult şi nici nu mă uit la pogramele de ştiri.Încet şi pe neobservate dispare cel mai credincios tovarăş din viaţa mea:anxietatea,moştenită atât de la mama cât şi de la tata,aşezată chiar în centrul identităţii mele,demonul şi în aceelaşi timp prietenul şi stimulatorul meu.Mi se antenuează nu numai suferinţa,angoasa şi sentimentul de umilire ireparabilă,dar mi se eclipsează şi estompează şi forţa propulsivă a creativităţii.
Aş fi putut rămâne un caz medical pentru tot restul vieţii mele.Existenţa îmi era aşa de plăcută în aceea stare de melancolie.Ea era ocrotită cu atâta delicateţe.Nimic nu mai este real,nimic nu mai are vreo importanţă,nimic nu mai este neliniştitor sau chinuitor.Mă mişc cu precauţie,reacţiile îmi sunt întârziate sau inexistente,sexualitatea încetează,viaţa este o elegie,un madrigal cântat de un cor,undeva departe,sub o boltă cu ecou,în timp ce ferestrele rotunde cu vitralii strălucesc şi spun poveşti care nu mă mai intereseză.