"Writing a celebrated sequel 20 years later can be no easy task, but Danny Boyle has shown that nostalgia can be the perfect drug – only if administered correctly." - especialmente na sessão da meia-noite, com os amigos de há 20 anos...

Juno....ou, como passar uma quinta-feira à noite em casa doente

Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world....

"Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world,

I feel like I can't take it,

and my heart is just going to cave in."

Big Fish - só frases, porque fotos e vídeo......

A man tells his stories so many times that he becomes the stories. They live on after him, and in that way he becomes immortal.

It was that night I discovered that most things you consider evil or wicked are simply lonely, and lacking in the social niceties.

There's a time when a man needs to fight, and a time when he needs to accept that his destiny is lost... the ship has sailed and only a fool would continue. Truth is... I've always been a fool.

Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you're not too big? That maybe this place is just too small?

Everybody's there, and I mean everybody. And the strange thing is, there's not a sad face to be found, everyone's just so happy to see you.

Most men, they'll tell you a story straight through. It won't be complicated, but it won't be interesting either.

 I was thinking about death and all. About seeing how you're gonna die. I mean, on one hand, if dying was all you thought about, it could kind of screw you up. But it could kind of help you, couldn't it? Because you'd know that everything else you can survive.

Have you ever heard a joke so many times you've forgotten why it's funny? And then you hear it again and suddenly it's new. You remember why you loved it in the first place.

She said that the biggest fish in the river gets that way by never being caught.

Will Bloom: You know about icebergs, dad?

Senior Ed Bloom: Do I? I saw an iceberg once. They were hauling it down to Texas for drinking water. They didn't count on there being an elephant frozen inside. The wooly kind. A mammoth.

Will Bloom: Dad!

Senior Ed Bloom: What?

Will Bloom: I'm trying to make a metaphor here.

Senior Ed Bloom: Well you shouldn't have started with a question, because most people want to answer questions. You should've started with "the thing about icebergs is."

Senior Ed Bloom: I don't know if you're aware of this, Josephine, but African parrots, in their native home of the Congo, they speak only French.

Josephine: Really?

Senior Ed Bloom: You're lucky to get four words out of them in English, but if you were to walk through the jungle, you'd hear them speaking the most elaborate French. Those parrots talk about everything. Politics, movies, fashion. Everything but religion.

Will Bloom: Why not religion, Dad?

Senior Ed Bloom: It's rude to talk about religion. You never know who you're gonna offend.

Will Bloom: Josephine actually went to the Congo last year.

Senior Ed Bloom: Oh, so you know.

Senior Ed Bloom: Tell me how it happens.

Will Bloom: How what happens?

Senior Ed Bloom: How I go.

Senior Dr. Bennett: Did your father ever tell you about the day you were born?

Will Bloom: A thousand times. He caught an uncatchable fish.

Senior Dr. Bennett: Not that one. The real story. Did he ever tell you that?

Will Bloom: No.

Senior Dr. Bennett: Your mother came in about three in the afternoon. Her neighbor drove her, on account of your father was on business in Wichita. You were born a week early, but there were no complications. It was a perfect delivery. Now, your father was sorry to miss it, but it wasn't the custom for the men to be in the room for deliveries then, so I can't see as it would have been much different had he been there. And that's the real story of how you were born. Not very exciting, is it? And I suppose if I had to choose between the true version and an elaborate one involving a fish and a wedding ring, I might choose the fancy version. But that's just me.

Amélie has a strange feeling of absolute harmony...

Narrator: Amélie still seeks solitude. She amuses herself with silly questions about the world below, such as "How many people are having an orgasm right now?"

Amélie: Fifteen.

Narrator: For Bretodeau, that little box brought back a lot of memories - Federico Bahamontes winning the '59 Tour de France, and of course, the tragic day when he won all the marbles at playtime

Bretodeau, The Box Man: Life's funny. To a kid, time always drags. Suddenly you're fifty. All that's left of your childhood... fits in a rusty little box.

Narrator: Nino is late. Amelie can only see two explanations:

                               1 - he didn't get the photo.

                               2 - before he could assemble it, a gang of bank robbers took him hostage. The cops gave chase. They got away... but he caused a crash. When he came to, he'd lost his memory. An ex-con picked him up, mistook him for a fugitive, and shipped him to Istanbul. There he met some Afghan raiders who took him to steal some Russian warheads. But their truck hit a mine in Tajikistan. He survived, took to the hills, and became a Mujaheddin. Amelie refuses to get upset for a guy who'll eat borscht all his life in a hat like a tea cozy.

Seller in the porn shop: These are hard times for dreamers.

Raymond Dufayel aka Glass Man: So that's the one, there, the guy who raises his hand?

Amélie: Yes.

Raymond Dufayel aka Glass Man: Is she in love with him?

Amélie: Yes.

Raymond Dufayel aka Glass Man: The time has come for her to take some real risks.

Amélie: Well yes, she's thinking about it. She's thinking of a stratagem.

Raymond Dufayel aka Glass Man: Yes, she likes stratagems, doesn't she?

Amélie: Yes.

Raymond Dufayel aka Glass Man: She's a bit of a coward. That's why I have trouble with her eyes.

Amelie has a strange feeling of absolute harmony. It's a perfect moment. A soft light, a scent in the air, the quiet murmur of the city. A surge of love, an urge to help mankind overcomes her.

Amici miei - hoje foi o dia

É melhor ir dormir...

Na verdade não me apetece. A ideia de voltar a casa depois de uma noite no jornal não me atrai nada.

É verdade. Hoje não me apetece estar só. Queria alguém com quem rir, conversar, mas não uma puta. Um amigo! Sim, os amigos, esses sim! Tenho grande vontade de estar com eles....mas, a esta hora, só me resta ir para casa.

....ah, voltou o filhote do Perozzi! Sim, é o carro dele. Só o filhote do Perozzi põe a capa impermeável no carro.

Não, eu não o suporto, principalmente num dia como hoje. Quando penso na carne da minha carne, não sei porquê, torno-me logo vegetariano.

E agora? A esta hora dormem todos...mas, ao menos um apanho. O Birillo já saiu para mijar, com certeza.







O bom das "ciganagens" é isto mesmo: a liberdade, a fantasia, o desejo.

Como o amor. Nasce quando nasce...e quando acaba é inútil insistir: já não há!

Grand Budapest Hotel....leve e delicioso

M. Gustave: You see, there are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity. Indeed that's what we provide in our own modest, humble, insignificant... oh, fuck it!

...com pena de não lembrar a fantástica frase sobre manter a ilusão, mas vou encontrá-la :)