Wings of Desire (1987)
Directed by Wim Wenders Cinematography by Henri Alekan
“Must I give up now? If I do give up, then mankind will lose its storyteller. And if mankind once loses its storyteller, then it will lose its childhood.”
Wings of Desire (1987)
Directed by Wim Wenders Cinematography by Henri Alekan
“Must I give up now? If I do give up, then mankind will lose its storyteller. And if mankind once loses its storyteller, then it will lose its childhood.”
kardia mu den antexw pxia tosi noimosini pu lei ki o piitis
©Philomena Famulok
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Gt kanei olo aisxra updates to tumblr
by Wislawa Szymborska
Out of a hundred people
those who always know better –fifty-two
doubting every step –nearly all the rest,
glad to lend a hand if it doesn’t take too long –as high as forty-nine,
always good because they can’t be otherwise –four, well maybe five,
able to admire without envy –eighteen,
suffering illusions induced by fleeting youth –sixty, give or take a few,
not to be taken lightly –forty and four,
living in constant fear of someone or something –seventy-seven,
capable of happiness –twenty-something tops,
harmless singly, savage in crowds –half at least,
cruel when forced by circumstances –better not to know even ballpark figures,
wise after the fact –just a couple more than wise before it,
taking only things from life –thirty (I wish I were wrong),
hunched in pain, no flashlight in the dark –eighty-three sooner or later,
righteous –thirty-five, which is a lot,
righteous and understanding –three,
worthy of compassion –ninety-nine,
mortal –a hundred out of a hundred.
Look into the Light…….
Photograph ©David Beattie
vittorio de seta, isole di fuoco (1954)
Masatoshi Naitō, Shinjuku Genkei Chimera
There's something grimly fin de siècle about a death-seeking, shipwreck-tourist millionaire eliciting more media sympathy and government aid than hundreds of refugees forced to drown in the Mediterranean.
Marija Dejanovic, Η Καλοσύνη Διαχωρίζει τη Μέρα από τη Νύχτα
λίγο πριν την μπόρα
Mist in the dark
Childhood memories:
the trees were not yet shaped like furniture
and the chickens walked freely through the landscape
Good news:
the earth recovers in a million
years.
It is we who disappear.
—Nicanor Parra