Film Quotes

I was the kind of girl everyone called hopelessly lovestruck. That day was no different from any other. I clung to my boyfriend’s arm, leaned in close, and shamelessly asked for a kiss like I always did. However, right before my lips touched his, a line of glowing comments drifted across my vision. They floated in the air like a livestream chat. [Can this side character wake up already? Can she not see the male lead avoided her the entire time? He hated clingy relationships like this.] [The kind of person who really suits him is the female lead. Someone gentle, patient, and understanding.] [Once the real female lead shows up, this annoying clingy girlfriend is definitely getting dumped.] My body froze. I slowly loosened my arms from around his neck. In the next second, he suddenly looked up at me. “Why’d you stop?”

In the madness of life, we find the madness of life in ourselves. We are a reflection of the madness of life. We are the embodiment of a crazy life.

After years of investment from my company, my boyfriend finally broke into show business. At last, he won an Oscar. True to his promise, he married me. Then, during a backstage interview, he said, "It was transactional. I had to marry her in exchange for the funding." His braindead fans came after me soon afterward. They stalked me and, one day, poured sulfuric acid over my face. The attack left me disfigured. He sent me to the hospital, but that was just another part of his scheme. Before long, the world believed I had died from complications. When I returned to life, I decided to invest in someone else. After all, he was the only person who had mourned my death and given me a proper burial.

In an East London lock up, two film makers, Jimmy and Sam, are duct taped to chairs and forced to watch a snuff film by Ashkan, a loan shark to whom they owe a lot of money. If they don’t pay up, they’ll be starring in the next one. Before the film reaches its end, Ashkan and all his men are slaughtered by unknown assailants. Only Jimmy and Sam survive the massacre, leaving them with the sole copy of the snuff film. The film makers decide to build their next movie around the brutal film. While auditioning actors, they stumble upon Melissa, an enigmatic actress who seems perfect for the leading role, not least because she’s the spitting image of the snuff film’s main victim. Neither the film, nor Melissa, are entirely what they seem however. Jimmy and Sam find themselves pulled into a paranormal mystery that leads them through the shadowy streets of the city beneath the city and sees them re-enacting an ancient Mesopotamian myth cycle. As they play out the roles of long forgotten gods and goddesses, they’re drawn into the subtle web of a deadly heresy that stretches from the beginnings of civilization to the end of the world as we know it. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

This isn't a love story, but almost a love story. Irina and Eric share a world through dreams and time travel. They have a strong mutual understanding about the feelings they have for each other, at the same time understanding that they cannot be together. Eric: I open my eyes and find myself standing alone in an empty room. The ceilings and the walls are neatly painted white. And the floor is composed of polished light brown wood. And there is a dark brown framed window at one corner where the light comes from. A bright yellow and pale red orange light tells me the sun is setting and soon it will be dark. Eric is a ghost who always appears in Irina's dream. Irina: I open the door to the bedroom. There is a dark brown framed window at one corner where the light is coming from. The yellow orange light passes through the open window. I see Eric standing right there on the spot captured by the yellow light. ‘You came back.’ I said. He stood there looking me in the eye. I almost died. Irina is a time traveler who may or may not change his fate. They alternatively tell a bitter sweet story. Love doesn't always mean together, sometimes it is deeper apart. Eric: I stand alone in the rain looking at the dark sky where all I can see is water, for it is both the rain and my tears flowing to my face. Irina: And suddenly it is no longer my reflection I see inside the mirror. What I see now is a figure of a man. I draw closer to see him clearly. But the closer I walk towards him, the farther I become from him. I couldn't get close.

Among the world's female models, Julian Vance once again ranked first as the photographer they most wanted to spend a night with. And yet he had never taken a single photograph of me. When reporters asked about it, he could never hide the fondness in his eyes. "My wife is for my eyes only. No one else gets that privilege." On my birthday, I happily changed into a lace nightdress and, for the first time, asked him to record me with his camera. Several minutes passed. The shutter never sounded. Behind the camera, Julian's expression had gone stiff. "Forget it," he said. My joy collapsed into confusion. "What's wrong?" "It's just..." He laughed dryly. "Photography is work. I don't want to mix you up with work." Then he put the camera back, turned around, and went into the bathroom. The door to the darkroom where he developed his photos was half open, red light spilling through the crack. I walked inside and saw an album on the worktable titled Vivian Blair's Private Diary. I opened it. Inside were photos in every degree of intimacy and every kind of pose.