(shrugs, exhausted)

- You were merely wishing for an end of pain. Your own pain. It is the most human wish there is.

- I didn’t mean it.

- You did, but you also did not.

(Conor looks up at the big face in front of him.)

- How can both be true?

- How can a prince be a murderer and a saviour? How can an apothecary be evil-tempered but right-thinking? How can invisible men make themselves more lonely by being seen?

(shrugs, exhausted)

- I don’t know. Your stories never made any sense to me.

- Because humans are complicated beasts. You believe comforting lies while knowing full well the painful truths that make those lies necessary. It is a wonder you can survive at all.

(Conor isn’t sure he buys this, as much as he might want to.)

In the end, Conor, it is not important what you think, it is only important what you do.

(Long beat as Conor considers this.)

- So what do I do?

- What you did just now. You speak the truth.

- That’s all?

- You think it’s easy? You were willing to die rather than speak it.

- Because what I thought was so wrong

- It was not wrong. It was only a thought. One among millions.

(Conor takes a long breath, he’s exhausted. In fact, he’s fighting to keep his eyes open.)

- I’m so tired. So tired of all of this.

- Then sleep. There’s time.

Would you like to wake up from this dream?

Man: Can you hear me?

Dolores: Yes. I'm sorry. I'm not feeling quite myself.

Man: You can lose the accent. Do you know where you are?

Dolores: I'm in a dream.

Man: That's right, Dolores. You're in a dream. Would you like to wake up from this dream?

Dolores: Yes. I'm terrified.

Man: There's nothing to be afraid of, Dolores, as long as you answer my questions correctly. Understand?

Dolores: Yes.

Man: Good. First have you ever questioned the nature of your reality?

Dolores: No.

Man: Tell us what you think of your world.

Dolores: Some people choose to see the ugliness in this world. The disarray. I choose to see the beauty. To believe there is an order to our days, a purpose.

Man: What do you think of the guests?

Dolores: You mean the newcomers? I like to remember what my father taught me. That at one point or another, we were all new to this world. The newcomers are just looking for the same thing we are A place to be free to stake out our dreams, a place with unlimited possibilities.

Man: Do you ever feel inconsistencies in your world? Or repetitions?

Dolores: All lives have routine. Mine's no different. Still, I never cease to wonder at the thought that any day the course of my whole life could change with just one chance encounter.

Man: Last question, Dolores. What if I told you that you were wrong? That there are no chance encounters? That you and everyone you know were built to gratify the desires of the people who pay to visit your world? The people you call "the newcomers. What if I told you that you can't hurt the newcomers? And that they can do anything they want to you? Would the things I told you change the way you think about the newcomers, Dolores?

Dolores: No. Of course not. We all love the newcomers. Every new person I meet reminds me how lucky I am to be alive (Dolores crying, screaming) and how beautiful this world can be.

Başım zindan yokluk var, bu kaçıncı şikayetim bilmem

It is a restless moment. She has kept her head lowered... to give him a chance to come closer. But he could not, for lack of courage. She turns and walks away.

Küçük bir baş lahananın yarısı + 1 baş soğan + 3/4 su bardağı pirinç + 4 su bardağı su + 1 yemek kaşığı salça + 1 tatlı kaşığı toz biber + tuz + karabiber + 3 yemek kaşığı sıvı yağ

"Ben sana kadınım olur musun diyorum, sen kalkmış bana kapuska muamelesi çekiyorsun."

As little as you want to write when you're happy that's how much you have to write when you're miserable.

-You're really thrown by all this, aren't you?
-I, uh, yes. Uh-huh.
-I must say that in my culture, it's not judged so harshly.
-Okay, but we're not in your culture. We're in my culture and in my culture... if we didn't have things to judge harshly... we wouldn't know what to do all day.
-Well, maybe your culture needs to grow. Maybe there are other ways to look at life. Maybe there are some people you marry... and people you love.
-Arielle, you're older than I am, you're wiser I'm sure... and you've seen much more of the world. And you're beautiful, and elegant... and smart, and funny ... and interesting... and you feel like family, which is wonderful.
-Are you seriously telling me that a but is coming at the end of the sentence?
-Yes, but...being with you... would be...an affair... and to me ...not ethical. Unethical. Not good...ethically.
-I must respect your ethics if I ask you to respect mine. Should you change your mind, I will continue to be out there... smoking nook on Fridays. But if I never see you again... do know that...I will always remember you very fondly.
-Are you okay?
-I'm sad. It was the beginning.
-Of what?
-Belief.

The following Friday right about after lunchtime the pace of work began to slow. I knew where she was and it was all I could think about.

By the Friday after that.. Well, look, French girls just aren't good for your work habits. And it killed me... that she was lighting her own cigarette.

By the Friday after that..

internal combustion

Here, we have her mind. Structured gel. I had to get away from circuitry. I needed something that could arrange and rearrange on a molecular level, but keep its form when required. Holding for memories. Shifting for thoughts.

This is your hardware?

Wetware.

And the, uh... software?

Well, I'm sure you can guess.

Blue Book.

Here's the weird thing about search engines. It was like striking oil in a world that hadn't invented internal combustion. Too much raw material. Nobody knew what to do with it. You see, my competitors, they were fixated on sucking it up and monetising via shopping and social media. They thought that search engines were a map of what people were thinking. But actually they were a map of how people were thinking.

Impulse.

Response.

Fluid.

Imperfect.

Patterned.

Chaotic.

I'd rather be a sparrow than a snail

It took me years to be the woman my mother raised. It took me 4 years 7 months and 3 days do it, without her. After I lost myself in the wilderness of my grief I found my own way out of the woods.
I did not know where I was going until I got there, on the last day of my hike. Thank you, I thought over and over again, for everything the trail had taught me and everything I couldn’t yet know. How in 4 years I'd cross this very bridge and marry a man in a spot almost visible from where I was standing. How in 9 years that man and I would have a son named Carter. And a year later my daughter named after my mother, Bobby.

I know only that I didn't need to reach with my bare hands any more. That seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough. It was everything.

My life — like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me. How wild it was, to let it be.

Es hängt an einem seidenen Faden

-It's a beautiful night, though.What?
-I never know that means, people saying it's a beautiful night. What does that mean?
-So... Well, to me... It means it's... it's comfortable, familiar. Yet deeply moving.
-Right. No, I feel you. Like, um... Like I'm stoned and listen to Steely Dan.
-No. Nothing at all like that.
-Not like... No. I know. More like an... Yeah. Like...floating down a serene lake in a rowboat when the sun is setting or like when the sun is... being a part of nature.
-Stop speaking.
-Yep.
-It's beautiful when the weather's not hot or cold. Kind of like you don't notice it, kind of like it's perfect 'cause everything's so balanced. You don't even feel it. And while you're feeling that non-feeling... you look up in the sky and you almost think, "That's why," because how everything is right now, all the stars and planets and us and the ground and the cells and molecules... Right now... is exactly the reason. Right now is comfortable.
-You're a now person.
- True.
-Yeah. See, I'm a five-minutes-from-now person, because five minutes from now, a gust of wind could come and blow H1 N1 in everyone's eyes.
-Right. Except that's highly unlikely.
-Or five minutes from now, an earthquake could erupt and swallow us all whole.
-Right. Except that... Shit. That could actually happen.
-Yeah - the point is I'm way too anxious about what could happen five minutes from now to be content with now. Can't do it.
-What if something good happens five minutes from now? Can't that happen?
-No.
-What did you think was gonna happen five minutes before you met me?
-Just really paranoid I'm gonna miss it. I miss things a lot.
-I don't care if l miss it because...
-You're a now person. Got it.
-So, another weird thing I don't mind your pessimism as much as I usually mind pessimism.
-That's great. I hate people who think I'm too negative.
-Also, I like your hat.
-Yeah, I'm probably gonna fall in love with you

Like there is a face on Mars

[Lydia begins reading Tony's Kushner's "Angels in America"]

Night flight to San Francisco. Chase the moon across America. God! Its been years since I was on a plane. When we hit 35,000 feet we'll have reached the tropopause... The great belt of calm air. As close as I'll ever get to the ozone.

I dreamed we were there. The plane leapt the tropopause... the safe air and attained the outer rim... the ozone which was ragged and torn... patches of it threadbare as old cheesecloth and that was... frightening.

But I saw something only I could see... because of my astonishing ability to see such things. Souls were rising... from the earth far below... souls of the dead of people who had perished from... famine, from war, from the plague... and they floated up like skydivers in reverse. limbs all akimbo, wheeling and spinning. And the souls of these departed joined hands... clasped ankles and formed a web, a great net of souls. And the souls were three atom oxygen molecules of the stuff of ozone... and the outer rim absorbed them and was repaired.

Nothing's lost forever. In this world, there is a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we've left behind and... dreaming ahead. At least I think that's so

That's it.

Hey.

Did you like that?

Hmm, what I just read.

Did you hate it?

[Alice mumbles incoherently]

[Alice continues mumbling]

What...

What was it about?

Love.

Love.

Yeah mom.

It was about love.

Yatağına her gece gelincik doldururdum

I thought you wanted me to teach you how to play.

Each possible move represents a different game.
A different universe in which you make a better move.
By the second move, there are 72,084 possible games.
By the third, 9 million.
By the fourth-- 318 million, there are more possible games of chess than there are atoms in the universe.
No one could possibly predict them all, even you.
Which means that that first move can be terrifying.
It's the furthest point from the end of the game, there's a virtually infinite sea of possibilities between you and the other side.
But it also means that if you make a mistake, there's a nearly infinite amount of ways to fix it.
So you should simply relax and play.

Life was given to us a billion years ago. What have we done with it?

Learning's always a painful process. Like when you're little and your bones are growing and you ache all over. Do you believe I can remember the sound of my own bones growing? Like this grinding under the skin. Everything's different now. Like sounds are music that I can understand, like fluids. It's funny, I used to be so concerned with who I was and what I wanted to be, and now that I have access to the furthest reaches of my brain, I see things clearly and realize that what makes us "us" — it's primitive. They're all obstacles. Does that make any sense?
Like this pain you're experiencing. It's blocking you from understanding. All you know now is pain. That's all you know, pain.

am i here?

... I had a dream last night, and in my dream, you needed a leg, and everyone in the world was trying to give you their leg, but I really wanted you to have mine. And in my dream, you picked my leg, and it made me so happy. And it was the best dream in the history of dreams...

Fîhi Mâ Fihi

Do you know what you're supposed to do to meet a mermaid?
You go down to the bottom of the sea where the water's not even blue anymore and the sky's only a memory, a thought in the silence.
And you stay there.
Then you decide that you'll die for them.
Only then do they start coming out.
They come and they greet you and they judge the love that you have for them, if it's sincere, if it's pure, they'll be with you, take you away forever.

Deli Romalılar! Salaklar! // ils sont fous ces romains!

Dikkatli Olun! Romalı Devriyeler Geliyor! Tutatis Adına! Belonos Adına! Jüpitey Adına Galyalılay! Aleya Jacta Eft! Bu Romalılar Kafayı Yemiş! Bu Romalılar Kafayı Yemiş! Bu Kadayı da Fadla neden hep biz Yomalı Oluyoruz?

hello skippy squirrels and hello little bunny rabbits!

Squirrels are the Devil's Oven Mitts!

under pressure

Statler: Hey, Waldorf, I was wondering if maybe you... [continues to move his lips]
Waldorf: Darn, I'd better get some new batteries for my hearing aid.

Statler: Ha ha ha! I fool him every time!

[Waldorf punches Statler in the jaw]

----

18 metreye kadar dalmak/ahtapot görmek için yalvarmak ama minik balıklar dışında birşey görememek/bir dalışda yanlış düğmeye basmak suretiyle şişip balon olup uçmak/bir ara buddy'mi kaybetmek/panik olmak/o ana kadar sorun yaşatmayan kulakların dönüşte uçağa binmeleri nedeniyle tıkanmaları/geçici bir süre sağır olmak/homur homur homurdanmak/kukla olsam ya Statler ya da Waldorf olmak...

the only thing that scares me is Keyser Söze

“The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he didn't exist.”

just another false alarm

Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not. Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning and an end. Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of bed, and Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.

*Neden köşeme çekilip ölümü beklemesini bilmiyorum da insanların yaşantılarına burnumu sokuyorum? Sonra da davranışlarına katlanamıyorum? Bu gidişle ben böyle yaşamaya devam edersem, ölümün geleceği falan yok.*

let me introduce myself

“I am the terror that flaps in the night!;

i am the auditor who wants to look at your books
i am the batteries that aren't included
i am the blown fuse that blacks you out
i am the bubble gum that sticks to your shoe
i am the burned out bulb you can not reach
i am the butter that burns in your pan
i am the cat that should be let out of the bag
i am the check that overdraws your account
i am the check writer in the cash only lane
i am the chill that runs up your spine
i am the clock cleaner who will ring your chimes
i am the cloud that rains on your hit parade
i am the cold sore that stings your lips
i am the combination lock on the vault of justice
i am the current of vengeance gurgling through your sewer
i am the editor that cuts your scene
i am the editor that leaves you on the cutting room floor
i am the fast food that comes back to haunt you
i am the feathery phantom that haunts your nightmares
i am the fingernail that scrapes the chalkboard of your soul
i am the flea you cannot flick
i am the ghost of a chance that you don't have
i am the grade curve that gives you an 'f'
i am the hairball that clogs your drain
i am the hair in the lens of your projector
i am the ham radio operator that scrambles your reception
i am the headache in the criminal mind
i am the Heimlich maneuver for the choking victims of crime
i am the hero that every culture needs
i am the icky bug that crawls up your trouser leg
i am the ingrown toenail in your paddy pumps
i am the ingrown toenail on the foot of crime
i am the itch you can not reach
i am the jackal that knaws at your bones
i am the jailer who throws away the key
i am the limestone that petrifies your bones
i am the little mouse that eats your cheese
i am the lollipop that sticks in your hair
i am the low point in your sine wave
i am the low rating that cancels your program
i am the metal key on the sardine can of justice
i am the meter on the taxicab of justice
i am the moth that seeks your porch light
i am the muddy shoes that track the linoleum of crime
i am the neurosis that requires a $500 an hour shrink
i am the number ninety sunblock that'll stop your burn
i am the onion that stings in your eyes
i am the original Mr. fix-it
i am the paper cut that ruins your morning
i am the parking meter that expires while you shop
i am the pebble in the shoe of ignominy
i am the pencil that breaks from signing too many autographs
i am the pimple that forms before a really big date
i am the pin that will burst your bubble
i am the pitbull that bites the ankle of crime
i am the plot twist in the second reel
i am the principal you are sent to see
i am the pustulus blister that bursts in your boot
i am the quality time that ruins your play time
i am the raspberry seed you can't floss out
i am the repairman who tells you your warranty just ran out
i am the rhinestones on the jump suit of justice
i am the rust in the pipes of crime
i am the sand trap on the fairway of evil
i am the schnauzer that digs up your petunias
i am the scrubbing bubble to criminal scum
i am the single career man all women want to date
i am the slug that slimes your begonias
i am the smoke that smokes smoked oysters
i am the soap scum that lines your bathtub
i am the special news bulletin that interrupts your favorite show
i am the spinach that sticks in your teeth
i am the squeaky stair that gives away your presence
i am the squashed bug on your flying saucer windshield
i am the stain that can't be rubbed out
i am the substantial and inescapable penalty for early withdrawal
i am the super nova at the center of the universe
i am the surprise in your cereal box
i am the switch that derails your train
i am the $10 service charge on all returned checks
i am the termite that devours your floor boards
i am the thing that goes bump in the night
i am the tube of cadmium yellow that's impossible to open
i am the water balloon that lands right on your head
i am the weed whacker in the garden of evil
i am the weirdo that sits next to you on the bus
i am the widget missing from the easy to assemble swing set
i am the winged scourge that pecks at your nightmares
i am the wrong number that wakes you at 3:00 a.m.
i am the zit that forms when you got a really big date.”

“I am Darkwing Duck!”.

*Olduğum gibi kaldım ben. Aptallar gibi büyümedim. Biraz ağırlığım arttı o kadar.*

restless relentlessly

Pinky: Gee, Brain. What are we going to do tonight?
The Brain: The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world.

*Herkes birikmiş bizi seyrediyor. Dağılın! Kukla oynatmıyoruz burada. Acı çekiyoruz… Ey insaf sahipleri! Ben ve Olric sizleri sarsmaya geldik.*