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Sigrid 2022-03-02 08:01:41
You are all living in this world, where else can you escape?
This is not a good movie! Absolutely not good looking! The value of this film's existence is to show the multi-facetedness of people in this world! It's good that there are basically no Facebook people in this movie!
What is Facebooking? A rigid professor who cheated on his female student? A... -
Max 2022-03-02 08:01:41
"Leaves of Grass": Everyone is a collection of contradictions
"Where there is soil and water, grass grows."
——Whitman's "Leaves of Grass"
In a quiet late night, he stared blankly at a floor-to-ceiling mirror, who was the dumb guy in it. The long hair is slightly wrinkled, and it looks like it has not been combed for a long time; the left collar corner is...
John Foster
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Salma 2022-03-02 08:01:41
The film tells the story that happened between two twin brothers in a documentary way, which not only mixes the collision and blending of the two lifestyles, but also interweaves the strong feelings between people.
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Tressie 2022-03-27 09:01:21
Norton's classmate is indeed an acting school, and he is handsome, unrestrained, elegant and reserved...
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Brady Kincaid: [talking about Janet] She's a poet.
Bill Kincaid: What?
Brady Kincaid: Seriously. She writes fuckin' poetry. And she's the Ladies Noodling Champion of '05.
Bill Kincaid: Her?
Brady Kincaid: 125 pounds of catfish in under 10 hours with nothing but her bare hands.
[sigh]
Brady Kincaid: I tried to get her and Colleen in a three-way once, but wouldn't neither of 'em go for it.
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Janet: You still leaving tomorrow.
Bill Kincaid: I think so.
Janet: I'll miss you.
Bill Kincaid: And we barely know each other.
Janet: "You have not known what you are. You have slumbered upon yourself all your life. Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time. What you have done returns already in mockeries. The mockeries are not you. Underneath them, and within them, I see you lurk."
Bill Kincaid: [absorbing what she'd just quoted] Who was that?
Janet: Walt Whitman.
Bill Kincaid: I don't think I ever imagined hearing him recited to me by a girl gutting a 40 pound catfish.
Janet: That's exactly how he should be recited. He wrote without rhyme or meter. Free verse. Just whatever he felt inside coming out in one intricate rhythm. Pure unashamed passion, without definable restriction.
Bill Kincaid: I'm sorry, see, I have a few issues with that.
Janet: Why?
Bill Kincaid: Because some have dared to suggest that even poetry has rules.
Janet: Or you make your own.
Bill Kincaid: Right there, that's the part I never bought into.
Janet: Because?
Bill Kincaid: If everybody runs around making their own rules, how can you ever find what's true? There's nothing... there's nothing to rely on.
Janet: "One night, I split my cicada skin, devoured your leaves, knowing no poison, no law of nourishment in that larval blindness, a hunger finally true."
Bill Kincaid: Who's that?
Janet: That's me.
