Wings of Desire Publisher:
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Homer, the aged poet: [inner voice] Tell me, muse, of the storyteller who has been thrust to the edge of the world, both an infant and an ancient, and through him reveal everyman. With time, those who listened to me became my readers. They no longer sit in a circle, bur rather sit apart. And one doesn't know anything about the other. I'm an old man with a broken voice, but the tale still rises from the depths, and the mouth, slightly opened, repeats it as clearly, as powerfully. A liturgy for which no one needs to be initiated to the meaning of words and sentences.
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Marion: [inner voice] Longing. Longing for a wave of love to swell up in me. That's what makes me so clumsy: the lack of pleasure. A desire to love. The desire to love!