Wim Wenders, Wings of Desire, 1987.
(Source: distortionanddrugs, via its-thecatcherintherye)
(via its-thecatcherintherye)
Too sick to be normal, not enough to be Ill. No matter what, people will always say they’ve had worse.
"How ironic, how cruel and painful, was the timeless struggle between life and death: from the moment we were conceived we did little else but struggle with each other and with death. We pitied a soldier who was killed in war for having died violently. But, in truth, we all spent our lives in a violent, ultimately futile, struggle for survival. At any given moment, his calculations had revealed, more things were being killed in the universe than were being born; Death always outscored Life, which explained why each and every life always came to an end. Always.”
║♥L
Wim Wenders, Wings of Desire, 1987.
(Source: distortionanddrugs, via its-thecatcherintherye)
(via its-thecatcherintherye)
Too sick to be normal, not enough to be Ill. No matter what, people will always say they’ve had worse.