User:Daniel Naczk/gallery

You may want to look like Dean Martin, but it's more like Martin's Ass. (Camille Javal)

Alasdair Gray, Poor Things, 1992

What an excellent day for an exorcism.

(Regan/Pazuzu)

People say you can’t wash away the mud of this world with pure white snow. You need asura snow, stained fiery red.

Lag din egen maske

(Fra Vadested til Vaandesmed)

In faded chairs, the pale old courtesans,

Eyebrows painted, eye of fatal calm,

Smirking, and letting drop from skinny ears

Those jingling sounds of metal and of stone;

Around green cloth, the faces without lips,

Lips without colour over toothless jaws,

And fingers twisted by infernal fires,

Digging in pockets, or in panting breast;

Under the filthy ceilings, chandeliers

And lamps of oil doling out their glow

Over the brilliant poets’ gloomy brows,

Who come to squander here their bloody sweat

This is the black tableau that in my dream

I see unroll before my prescient eye.

There in an idle corner of that den

I see myself-cold, mute, and envying,

Envious of these men’s tenacious lust,

The morbid gaiety of these old whores,

Trafficking gallantly before my face

In honour and in beauty, as of old!

My heart takes fright to envy this poor lot

Who rush so fervently to the abyss,

And who, drunk on their blood, prefer, in sum,

Suffering to death, and Hell to nothingness!

Charles Baudelaire, Gaming (The Flowers of Evil, second edition, 1861). Translated by James McGowan, 1993

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1890

(Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, 1956. Translated by Ivan Morris, 1959)

Never rat on your friends and always keep your mouth shut.

(James Conway, Goodfellas, 1990)

Blessed Are the Sick

It is the second tear that makes kitsch kitsch.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being, 1984. Translated by Michael Henry Heim.

(Thy Mighty Contract, 1993-2023, 30th ANNIVERSARY)

(Witkacy, The Shoemakers. Translated and edited by Daniel C. Gerould and C. S. Durer, 1973)

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe...

(Natural Born Killers, 1994)

Dr. Otto von Niemann: Uh, could I have some more, please?

Ruth Bertin: You drink entirely too much coffee.

Dr. Otto von Niemann: Mm, it's my one weakness.

Inn i evighetens mørke

ESTRAGON: What about hanging ourselves?

VLADIMIR: Hmm. It'd give us an erection.

ESTRAGON: (highly excited). An erection!

VLADIMIR: With all that follows. Where it falls mandrakes grow. That's why they shriek when you pull them up. Did you not know that?

ESTRAGON: Let's hang ourselves immediately!

The burgher’s hat flies away in a trice.

In all quarters resounds hullabaloo.

Roof tilers plummet down and break in two.

Along the coasts — one reads — the floodings rise.

The storm is here, wuthering seas are hopping

Ashore to crush dams as if they were midges.

Most people have a cold that is not stopping.

The railway waggons tumble down from bridges.

Jakob van Hoddis, World's End, 1911. Translated by Natias Neutert, 1980

I once had a sweet little doll, dears,

The prettiest doll in the world;

Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears,

And her hair was so charmingly curled.

But I lost my poor little doll [...]

Charles Kingsley

From: My Little Doll (The Water-Babies), 1862

Sit round the fire with this cup of brew

A fiend and a werewolf on each side of you

This cannibal orgy is strange to behold

And the maddest story ever told.

Spider Baby, 1967

This is the end of your rotten life, you motherfuckin' dope pusher!

Coffy, 1973

Carmen, 1845, translated by Lady Mary Loyd.

WAXY ANNIVERSARIES IN 2023

Sister Susie's sewing shrouds

Me uncle drives an hearse

And, now they've made an helper out of me

Me aunt's a casket draper

Mother lady undertaker

Gee, but we're an happy family

( Laurie's song ♪ )

I'd rather die with an athletic heart from shaking cocktails and bankers, than expire in a pan of dirty dish water. (Florence Dempsey)

Through night great hordes of suicides are hurled,

Men seeking on their way the selves they've lost;

Crook-backed they haunt all corners of the world,

And with their arms for brooms they sweep the dust.

They are as dust, keep but a little while;

And as they move their hair drops out. They run,

To hasten their slow dying. Then they fall,

And in the open fields lie prone,

But twitch a little still.

Georg Heym

(From: Umbra Vitae, 1912, translated by Christopher Middleton)

There is a light, which the wind has extinguished.

There is a country tavern that the drunk leaves in the afternoon.

There is a vineyard, burnt and black with holes inhabited by spiders.

There is a room that has been whitewashed with milk.

The madman is dead. There is an island in the South Seas

Ready to receive the Sun-God. The drums continue pounding.

Men perform warlike dances.

Women swing their hips in liana and fire-flower

While the sea is singing. O our lost paradise.

Georg Trakl

From: Psalm. Second Version, 1912

Translated by Daniel Simko, 1998

ICELANDIC PROVERB

And all they want me to do is scream into the microphone. Which I do and it promptly breaks the service. And BBC is off the air for minutes until repairs can be made.

(Fay Wray and the Movies, by Jim Bawden, 1989)

Adolf Cragg: Look! Here! Nietzsche says: 'All life, no matter how we idealize it, is nothing more nor less than exploitation'. That’s what I’m telling you! Exploit yourself!

Lily Powers: [pause] Yeah.

Sit down, you fool. Let's have a decent fire.

(Jacob Riis, How the Other Half Lives, Chapter VI: The Bend, 1889)

If I could find anything blacker than black, I'd use it.

Émile Zola, The Ladies' Paradise, 1883

(Translated by Frank Belmont, 1886)

Robert Talbot: You're not making any sense!

Lisa Fellini: I don't have to make sense. I'm Italian!

(Come September, 1961)

Not all washing machines have cut up corpses inside.

(The Washing Machine, 1993)

Phyllis Stone: What do you mean, you changed?

Mari Collingwood: I mean, my breasts filled out!

Major Strasser: What is your nationality?

Rick: I'm a drunkard.

Captain Renault: And that makes Rick a citizen of the world.

Story goes, these great big rats come scuttling off the slave ships and raped all the little tree monkeys. (Zoo Keeper)

Her Jetticks could always be seen in the dark, even as she climbed into the cold blackened breastbone of the Hollywood Hills. It’s why she loved them so much: Her shoes.

From: Peg Entwistle (Dark Sparkler) by Amber Tamblyn, 2015

All you need for a movie is a gun and a girl.

Kicked

In a sober frame of mind he came to have some business taken care of

but at the first door he got kicked

he smiled

getting kicked to him seemed quite witty

he tried again

got kicked

he decided to go up to the next floor

again he was knocked down the stairs by a kick

like a well-behaved dog he waited politely in the hallway

got kicked

got kicked at the main gate

in the street got kicked again

so at any rate he desired a more poetical death

he flung himself under an automobile

and caught a solid kick from the chauffeur.

(Translated by Kevin Christianson and Halina Ablamowicz, 2008)

Should I Stay or Should I Go (Official Audio)

Can there be anything sadder than a human being changed into the rubber tube of an enema?

The Street of Crocodiles, 1933 (translated into English by Celina Wieniewska in 1963)

Margot Robbie (Emirates Woman, 6 April 2015)

"Baby, What You Want Me To Do", 1968

And perhaps the masts, inviting lightning,

Are those the gale bends over shipwrecks,

Lost, without masts, without masts, no fertile islands...

But, oh my heart, listen to the sailors’ chant!

From: Sea Breeze, 1866

(Stéphane Mallarmé, Un Coup de Dés & Other Poems, translated by Anthony S. Kline, 2004-2009)

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,

And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,

I arise and unbuild it again.

From: The Cloud, 1820

All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain... (Roy Batty)

I did it with a razor.

(Nell Forbes, Don't Bother to Knock, 1952)

Margaret Oliphant, The Library Window, 1896

Otto Kringelein: I'll have something sweet and cold, please.

Barman: Louisiana Flip, sir?

Otto Kringelein: Louisiana Flip? Yes, that sounds very nice. Thank you.

Fuckin' Italian people. How did we miss out on this? [...] Fuckin' espresso, cappuccino. We invented this shit and all these other cocksuckers are gettin' rich off it. [...] And it's not just the money. It's a pride thing. All our food: pizza, calzone, buffalo moozarell'...olive oil. These fucks had nothin'. They ate pootsie before we gave them the gift of our cuisine. But this, this is the worst. This espresso shit. (Paulie 'Walnuts' Gualtieri, The Sopranos, 1999)

I've sailed the seven seas, but I never saw a craft as trim as you. (Bill Roberts)

There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie, and Dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening.

Not for you is the silvery whirlpool’s cup

Nor the gulfs where the clear sea lies,

But the harsh earth shall swallow your body up

And the gravel shall put out your eyes.

For a thousand years shall your spirit wait

By the side of this witnessing tree,

And the fires of hell that never abate

Shall burn you unceasingly.

From: Świtezianka. (Adam Mickiewicz. Selected Poetry and Prose. Ed. Stanisław Helsztyński. Translated by George Rapall Noyes and Jewell Parish, 1955)

Destruction, "Mad Butcher" (1986 Version)

Two were dark, and had high aquiline noses, like the Count, and great dark, piercing eyes, that seemed to be almost red when contrasted with the pale yellow moon. The other was fair, as fair as can be, with great wavy masses of golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the moment how or where. All three had brilliant white teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear.

CHAPTER III, JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL.

[...] with the brutal gold of the gas.

She walks the waters like a thing of life,

And seems to dare the elements to strife.

Lord Byron, The Corsair, Canto I, Stanza 3, 1814

"Pleasure to Kill", 1986

"Agent Orange", 1989

"Paint It, Black", 1966

Ernest Hemingway, Notes on the Next War, 1935

If you think you're gonna die, what's more important? A good book or a good smoke? (Paul Benjamin)

Smoke, 1995

Leave the gun. Take the cannoli. (Peter Clemenza)

Up the close and doon the stair,

But and ben' wi' Burke and Hare.

Burke's the butcher, Hare's the thief,

Knox the boy that buys the beef.

(19th century Edinburgh rhyme)

Cast off the bow-line!

"Kathaarian Life Code" (Studio)

"(Ghost) Riders in the Sky" , American Outlaws: Live at Nassau Coliseum, 1990

Mark Lanegan, "Ballad of a Dying Rover", 2020

Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan, "Come Undone", 2010

The day she died the neighbors

Came to snicker:

"Well, that's what comes

From too much pills and liquor."

But when I saw her laid out like a Queen,

She was the happiest... corpse...

I'd ever seen.

I have lots of vices, but I really don't practice them.

(Valentina Gherardini, La Notte, 1961)

Let me tell you what "Like a Virgin" is about. (Mr. Brown)

A learned fool is more of a fool than an ignorant one. Clitandre, The Learned Women, Act IV. Sc. 3. (1672)

(Translated by Charles Heron Wall, 1877)

Whenever I do a period picture, I look at what songs were popular in that period. This movie was set in 1935, and as I was looking down at the list I saw a song called ‘It’s Only a Paper Moon’. For some reason those two words jumped out at me. And the song kind of goes with the story.

(Interview with Peter Bogdanovich, by Jon Watts, 2017, Empire)

Daddy, I need to go to the shithouse. (Addie Loggins)

My name is Pray, Kansas Bible Company. (Moses "Moze" Pray)

Just for a little while, let old Trixie sit up front with her big tits. (Trixie Delight)

I think my way of showing violence is different from that of other filmmakers. When I show it, it hurts. I don't want people to think it's just a game, because violence is painful.

The day my desire for women becomes less strong is maybe the day I will make a film about women.

(Tom Mes, Interview with Takeshi Kitano, 5 November 2003, Midnight Eye)

I am in fact a Hobbit (in all but size). I like gardens, trees, and unmechanized farmlands; I smoke a pipe, and like good plain food (unrefrigerated), but detest French cooking; I like, and even dare to wear in these dull days, ornamental waistcoats. I am fond of mushrooms (out of a field); have a very simple sense of humor (which even my appreciative critics find tiresome); I go to bed late and get up late (when possible). I do not travel much.

Letter to Deborah Webster, 25 October 1958

20 years...

DEATH, "Scream Bloody Gore", 1987

Come as You Are

Ms .45, 1981

Dave Gahan & Soulsavers, "Metal Heart"

How pathetic it is to describe these things which can't truly be described, Louis, Interview with the Vampire, 1976

Professor Flamel: Good morning, prostitutes!

[Girls]: Fuck you!

Salomè: Tell me the truth, Tunin. You're not thinking about tyrants, are you? What are you looking at?

Tunin: Oh, fuck! Come on.

Salomè: You're staring at my legs [...] I'm sorry, but have you ever been in a brothel?

Tunin: Never.[...]

Salomè: Oh, well [...] You're just sitting there, so quiet, looking at me like a hungry kitty. Come on. Given our plans, let's just do it.

.............

Nice day. We ate, we drank, we laughed, we belched, we fucked, we farted and we fought. What more do you want? A perfect Sunday. Spatoletti (Eros Pagni)

30 years...

Mayhem - Carnage (ft. Dead)

Echo & the Bunnymen, "All That Jazz", 1980

Sally Grace, Lord Love a Duck (Lynn Carey)

Lynn Carey and Mama Lion, "Candy Man", 1973

The Wild Ones, "Lord Love a Duck"

"For Whom The Bell Tolls", 1984

BLACK SABBATH, "War Pigs", Paris, 1970

10 years...

Gary Moore & Phil Lynott, "Parisienne Walkways"

Slayer, Raining Blood, 2010

In January 1991, I designed what would become the iconic logo of Emperor [...] It was like one single shot; I did one unique design, no sketches, just the symmetrical pencil draft that I later inked and sent to Mortiis and then to Samoth. Christophe Szpajdel (Archaic Modernism. The Art of Christophe Szpajdel, 2020)

The Evil Dead, 1981-2021, 40th ANNIVERSARY

"The Dark"

Elvira's Movie Macabre, 1981-2021, 40th ANNIVERSARY

A girl can't read that sort of thing without her lipstick. (Holly Golightly)

Aldous Huxley, Point Counter Point, 1928

(Philip Roth interviews Milan Kundera, 30 November 1980)

Nick: You trying to look like a prince?

Michael: What do you mean, trying?

You know, this is, excuse me, a damn fine cup of coffee.

(Agent Dale Cooper, Twin Peaks, 1990)

That I could drink thy veins as wine, and eat

Thy breasts like honey! that from face to feet

Thy body were abolished and consumed,

And in my flesh thy very flesh entombed!

(From: Anactoria by Algernon Charles Swinburne, 1866)

Kongos, "I'm only joking", 2012

(Professor Richard Wanley, The Woman in the Window, 1944)

Gustave Flaubert, Memoirs of a Madman, 1838

(Eros, Plan 9 from Outer Space, 1959)

"Hvite Krists Død" ("The Shadowthrone"), 1994

Tom Wall : Look up, Frank. Full moon. The blood's gonna run tonight. I can feel it. Our mission: to save lives.

Frank Pierce : Our mission is coffee, Tom. A shot of the bull, Puerto Rican espresso.

Tom Wall : Ten-four. El Toro de Oro! Blast off!

(Bringing Out the Dead, 1999)

Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita, 1973 (uncensored version)

(Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, 1964)

Patricia Franchini: Buy me a dress at Dior?

Michel Poiccard: No way! There are nicer ones at the five-and-ten. You don't buy dresses at Dior, you make calls. It's the only place you can call for free. There are twelve phone booths.

(Breathless, 1960, translation: Criterion Collection)

Margo Channing: All playwrights should be dead for three hundred years!

Lloyd Richards: That would solve none of their problems because actress never die! [...] I shall never understand the weird process by which a body with voice suddenly fancies itself as a mind. Just when exactly, does an actress decide they're her words she's saying and her thoughts she's expressing?

Margo Channing: Usually, at the point when she has to rewrite and rethink them to keep the audience from leaving the theatre!

Lloyd Richards: It's about time the piano realized it has not written the concerto!

.......

Margo Channing: [to Bill Sampson] And you, I take it, are the Paderewski who plays his concerto on me, the piano?

(All About Eve, 1950)

(Tim Estiloz, TV Interview with Bettie Page, 1996)

(Bettie Page: Queen of Hearts by Jim Silke, 1995)

I was a rebellious child, a rebellious lover, a rebellious couturière — a real devil.

(Paris, Paris: Journey Into the City of Light‎ by David Downie, 2005)

Hiromi Kawakami, Record of a Night Too Brief, 1996. Translated by Lucy North, 2017

The world made a whore of me, now I'll make a whorehouse of the world. Pay up or get off the dance floor. Claire Zachanassian. The Visit, 1956

(Joseph-Ignace Guillotin, Statement to the French Assembly, 1789)

The most beautiful is what is still unfinished

(From: Feeling the Way, 2004. Translated by John and Bogdana Carpenter, 2008)

Stanisław Przybyszewski, letter to Alfred Wysocki, August 1894

If porcelain, then only the kind

you won’t miss under the shoe of a mover or the tread of a tank;

if a chair, then not too comfortable, lest

there be regret in getting up and leaving;

if clothing, then just so much as can fit in a suitcase,

if books, then those which can be carried in the memory,

if plans, then those which can be overlooked

when the time comes for the next move

to another street, continent, historical period

or world:

who told you that you were permitted to settle in?

who told you that this or that would last forever?

did no one ever tell you that you will never

in the world

feel at home?

(Translated by Frank Kujawinski)

Ars Poetica, 1938

The poem is in me, evil, alien, evil

and hateful; with scorching fire it burns my nights,

it passes through me crowdlike, hoarse with shouting

like a torchlit procession in the streets.

The poem is evil, hateful, trying to burst

its form (how hard to shackle one who’s free),

and though I drag it from my fiery innards,

its master I will never wholly be.

It twists, shouting and troubled, till it cries out;

becomes then alien, a friend who never was,

stands on the frozen, flaming threshold, crated,

and joins the others in the evening frosts.

(Translated by Bill Johnston, 2005)

Charlie Chaplin, My Autobiography, 1964

(I know, not as unique as yours. With thanks.)

Ninotchka: [looking at a map] I am looking for the Eiffel Tower.

Leon: Good heavens, is that thing lost again? Oh, are you interested in a view?

Ninotchka: I'm interested in the Eiffel Tower from a technical standpoint.

Leon: Technical? No, no, I'm afraid I couldn't be of much help from that angle. You see, a Parisian only goes to the Tower in moments of despair to jump off.

Ninotchka: How long does it take a man to land?

Leon: Now isn't that too bad. The last time I jumped, I forgot to time it. Let me see now, the Eiffel Tower...ah, your finger, please?

Ninotchka: Why do you need my finger?

Leon: It's bad manners to point with your own. There, the Eiffel Tower.

(Ninotchka, 1939)

A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti, Hannibal Lecter

Ian McGuire, The North Water, 2016

Another way my sapient Guide conducts me

⁠Forth from the quiet to the air that trembles;

And to a place I come where nothing shines.

Divine Comedy, Inferno, Canto IV, translated by H.W. Longfellow

words, 2004

words have been used up

chewed up like chewing gum

by lovely young mouths

and turned into a white

bubble

weakened by politicians

they serve to whiten

teeth

to cleanse the oral

cavity

when I was a child

a word

could heal wounds

could be given

to a loved one

now weakened

wrapped in newspaper words

still poison still stink

still inflict wounds

hidden in heads

hidden in hearts

hidden under dresses

of young women

hidden in holy books

they explode

and kill

(Translated by Joanna Trzeciak, 2011)

(Frida: A Biography of Frida Kahlo by Hayden Herrera, 1983)

If man had more of a sense of humor, things might have turned out differently. Solaris, 1961

(Andrea Scala, About Photography, 2012)

Sugarpuss O'Shea: I'm going to show you what yum-yum is. Here's yum.

[kisses him]

Sugarpuss O'Shea: Here's the other yum.

[kisses him again]

Sugarpuss O'Shea: And here's yum-yum.

[gives a long kiss that knocks him backwards onto a chair]

(Ball of Fire, 1941)

Pablo Neruda, Love Sonnet XI, 1959

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you, for your hot heart,

like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

(Translated by Stephen Tapscott, 1986)

Oh, sorrow, sorrow from end to beginning,

The black thread is spinning:

It’s behind, it’s ahead, and it’s with me,

I breathe, and it’s there,

I smile, and it’s here,

In my prayer, my hymn, and my tear...

(From: My Song (Ⅰ), 1844, translated by Danuta Borchardt, 2011)

This life is a hospital where each patient is possessed by the desire to change his bed. Paris Spleen, 1869, published posthumously.

Rafał Wojaczek (1945-1971)

You Have to Fear the Rose...

You have to fear the rose; it is the mouth

of the wound that bleeds continually inside you.

Because my tongue, oh naked one, can’t find you.

Tell me you are afraid, I’ll believe you exist.

That you exist in yourself; conscious of your body.

The body is a shutter the gentlest breeze’s hand

can turn into a windowpane of blood.

A firestorm will seize the neighboring district,

burn out the eyes of every newborn baby,

while the blind, grieving mothers lose their hair.

Tell me then, so that only my hair can hear you,

so that my skin can tell the lips, with a quick shudder

of whisper, whether you still live in this muddy person;

before I’ve flowed through it entirely, tell me.

(Translated by Piotr Gwiazda)

Edgar Allan Poe, Marginalia, 1844