“All my life I’ve been harassed by questions: Why is something this way and not another? How do you account for that? This rage to understand, to fill in the blanks, only makes life more banal. If we could only find the courage to leave our destiny to chance, to accept the fundamental mystery of our lives, then we might be closer to the sort of happiness that comes with innocence.

“Fortunately, somewhere between chance and mystery lies imagination, the only thing that protects our freedom, despite the fact that people keep trying to reduce it or kill it off altogether. I suppose that’s why Christianity invented the notion of intentional sin. When I was younger, my so-called conscience forbade me to entertain certain images—like fratricide, for instance, or incest. I’d tell myself these were hideous ideas and push them out of my mind. But when I reached the age of sixty, I finally understood the perfect innocence of the imagination. It took that long for me to admit that whatever entered my head was my business and mine alone. The concepts of sin or evil simply didn’t apply; I was free to let my imagination go wherever it chose, even if it produced bloody images and hopelessly decadent ideas. When I realized that, I suddenly accepted everything.”

Luis Buñuel
February 22, 1900 — July 29, 1983

(Source: strangewood, via thefilmstage)

Sherlock Jr. — Rosemary's Baby Spellbound — Dreams Wild Strawberries — Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Los Olvidados — Ivan's Childhood Awaara — 8½ The Big Lebowski — Meshes of the Afternoon

Ingmar Bergman: No other art-medium—neither painting nor poetry—can communicate the specific quality of the dream as well as the film can. When the lights go down in the cinema and this white shining point opens up for us, our gaze stops flitting hither and thither, settles and becomes quite steady. We just sit there, letting the images flow out over us. Our will ceases to function. We lose our ability to sort things out and fix them in their proper places. We’re drawn into a course of events—we’re participants in a dream… Sometimes while I’m dreaming I think: “I’ll remember this, I’ll make a film of it”—it’s a sort of occupational disease.

Luis Buñuel: If someone were to tell me I had twenty years left, and ask me how I’d like to spend them, I’d reply: “Give me two hours a day of activity, and I’ll take the other twenty-two in dreams… provided I can remember them.”

(Source: strangewood, via biokam)


"It is the unique power of cinema to allow a great many people to dream the same dream together and to present illusions to us as if it were strict reality. It is, in short, an admirable vehicle for poetry. My film is nothing other than a striptease act, gradually peeling away my body to reveal my naked soul."

Jean Cocteau (July 5, 1889 –- October 11, 1963)

(via biokam)