I love seeing people come out of darkness.

David Lynch, “Light on Film,” in his Catching the Big Fish.

Leaving Las Vegas (Mike Figgis, 1995)

• Ben:

  I'm Ben.

• Sera:

  I'm Sera.

• Ben:

  Sarah—with an H?

• Sera:

  No. S.E.R.A.

Once a plan gets too complex, everything can go wrong.

John Goodman, in The Big Lebowski

When the light hits him a certain way, he’s almost handsome.

Capucine, on Peter O’Toole, in What’s New Pussycat (1965). Watched this again last night. There’s really no one quite like Peter O’Toole.

You do it in the streets. You do it at home.

Scorsese and Mean Streets in books.

But quite frankly your attitude appalls me. It’s not what you’re saying. It’s all the stuff you’re not saying. Insinnuendos.

Ben Kingsley, Sexy Beast. A film to return to over and over again for inspiration.

Look upon me! I’ll show you the life of the mind!

John Goodman, in Barton Fink.

How to make a perfect martini, from Luis Buñuel, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie. The martini in books here.

I need an assistant. I pay room and board and give life lessons that are priceless plus a salary. You wouldn’t know anyone who needs a job, would you?

Nick Nolte, as Lionel Dobe, in Martin Scorsese’s New York Stories. Also the history of a certain kind of man, and a certain kind of woman.

Then in passionate disconnected speech. Nothing but nouns. Or nothing but verbs. Then interjections. With zigzags of aimless shapes, whirling along with these in synchronization.

Then racing visual images over complete silence.

Then linked with polyphonic sounds. Then polyphonic images. Then both at once.

Sergei Eisenstein, on literature, cinema and “inner monologues,” in Film Form (1949)

Mr. President, we must not allow … a mine shaft gap!

George C. Scott, in Dr. Strangelove. Forever my favorite film.

Yumeji’s Theme, from In the Mood for Love. Perfect song, perfect film.

The whole of England must be searching for me. Well, sooner or later they’re going to find me
Never, ‘cause you see, they’re looking for you, right? But nobody’s looking for me

Stars, International Rock Star.  Sampled from The Collector, based on the novel by the same name by John Fowles

Ballard/Stone

In the post-Warhol era a single gesture such as uncrossing one’s legs will have more significance than all the pages in War and Peace.

Ballard, The Atrocity Exhibition (1970)

Stone, Basic Instinct (1992)