My favorite part of the film is when Cabiria babbles in front of the big star. One of the ways to get out of the quarrel with your girlfriend is, of course, to find another woman. She was doing business on the street and inadvertently watched the lost star, so she was inexplicably called by him to relieve her boredom. When she was in the star's mansion, she suddenly became sad, "If I go to those sisters in the expressway, who will believe that I have come to your house and spent a night with you?". When asked where she lived, she smugly defended her self-esteem, "I have my own house! I'm not like those women who live in arches! I've never lived in arches," and then shy Said, "Of course only once, oh, maybe only twice..."
My anti-master complex has been at work, until now, when a group of literary and artistic youths are masters of so-and-so, and a country's independence wave is spitting on stars and wars, it is basically the same. There is nothing to put in. In order to subvert those gloomy nights in the university, I was flipping through the shabby shop of the blue ostrich, and I was looking at the literary and artistic films that could catch the eye. That night, I turned to a poster on the disc. A woman was wearing a cheap fur waistcoat with a somewhat dramatic appearance. She was rude and even felt a little like Song Dandan, who carelessly was smoking a cigarette. "Night of Cabiria", I didn't buy it later, maybe because the boss likes to recommend pure literary films, and I can always consume my tears in some lesser-known seemingly difficult and obscure films, and at that time my The lacrimal gland is extremely underdeveloped, and it is not easier to get an orgasm than a frigid.
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