Richard Linklater writes this story about a girl and a boy who met up in a train and spend a whole night together until the sunshine (Before Sunrise). Now, we are in Paris, witnessing their second encounter after 9 years. And they have too much things to tell each other.
- I've been thinking about this... Well, I always kind of wanted to write a book that all took place within the space of a pop song. Like three or four minutes long, the whole thing. The story, the idea, is that there's this guy, and he's totally depressed. His great dream was to be a lover, an adventurer, you know, riding motorcycles through South America. And instead he's sitting at a marble table eating lobster. He's got a good job and a beautiful wife. Everything that he needs. But that doesn't matter because what he wants is to fight for meaning. You know? Happiness is in the doing, right? Not in the getting what you want. So he's sitting there, and just that second his little 5-year-old daughter hops up on the table. And he knows that she should
get down, because she could get hurt. But she's dancing to this pop song in a summer dress. And he looks down and all of a sudden, he's 16. And his high-school sweetheart is dropping him off at home. And they just lost their virginity, and she loves him and the same song is playing on the car radio. And she climbs up and starts dancing on the roof of the car. And now he's worried about her. And she's beautiful, with a facial
expression just like his daughter's. In fact, maybe that's why he even likes her. You see, he knows he's not
remembering this dance, he's there. He's there, in both moments, simultaneously. And just for an instant,
all his life is just folding in on itself. And it's obvious to him that time is a lie. That it's all happening all the time and inside every moment is another moment, all happening simultaneously.
**
- I was working for this organization that helped villages in Mexico. And their concerns was how to get the pencils sent to the kid in those little country schools. It was not about big, revolutionary ideas. It was about pencils. I see the people that do the real work, and what's really sad is that the people that are the most giving, hardworking and capable of making this world better usually don't have the ego and ambition to be a leader. They don't see any interest in superficial rewards. They don't care if their name ever appear in the press. They actually enjoy the process of helping others. They're in the moment.
**
- Memory is a wonderful thing if you do not have to deal with the past.
**
- Did you ever keep a journal when you were a kid? It's funny, I read one of mine from '83 the other day. And what really surprised me is that I was dealing with life the same way I am now. I was much more hopeful and naive but the core, and the way I was feeling things, is exactly the same. It made me realize
I haven't changed much at all.
**
- Sometimes I worry I'll get to the end of my life feeling I haven't done all I wanted to. I want to paint more,
I want to play my guitar every day. I want to learn Chinese. I want to write more songs. There's so many things I want to do, and I end up doing not much.
**
- I always feel like a freak because I'm never able to move on like this. People just have an affair,
or even entire relationships, they break up and they forget. They move on like they would have
changed brand of cereals. I feel I was never able to forget anyone I've been with because each person had their own specific qualities. You can never replace anyone. What is lost is lost. Each relationship, when it ends, really damages me. I never fully recover. That's why I'm very careful with getting involved because it hurts too much. I will miss of the person the most mundane things. Like I'm obsessed with little things. Maybe I'm crazy, but when I was a little girl my mom told me that I was always late to school. One day she followed me to see why. I was looking at chestnuts falling from the trees, rolling on the sidewalk or ants crossing the road, the way a leaf casts a shadow on a tree trunk. Little things. I think it's the same with people. I see in them little details, so specific to each of them, that move me and that I miss and will always miss. You can never replace anyone because everyone is made of such beautiful, specific details. Like, I remember the way your beard has a bit of red in it and how the sun was making it glow that morning right before you left. I remembered that, and I missed it.
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