“Rain on roof outside window, gray light, deep covers and warm blankets. Rain and nip of autumn in air; nostalgia, itch to work better and bigger. That crisp edge of autumn.”
The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, 26 August 1956 in Paris
“'Death is a long process,' Archer says. 'Your body is just the first part of you that croaks.' Meaning: Beyond that, your dreams have to die. Then your expectations. And your anger about investing a lifetime in learning shit and loving people and earning money, only to have all that crap come to basically nothing. Really, your physical body dying is the easy part. Beyond that, your memories must die. And your ego. Your pride and shame and ambition and hope, all that Personal Identity Crap can take centuries to expire.”
Damned, Chuck Palahniuk
Marion Cotillard by Alex Prager.