You need more than guts to be a good gangster. You need ideas.
Cidade de Deus (City of God) (2002)
The man in the chair is MARWOOD. Twenty-five years old. Milk white with insomnia. Glasses like Lennon’s and a sweet face behind them. Seventy-five per cent good looks and the rest is anxiety. This is a long haul with unspecified destination. Only thing certain is there are still hours to go. Hours and hours have stagnated in here. Drifting in cigarette smoke and settling with the dust.
When someone is crying, of course, the noble thing to do is to comfort them. But if someone is trying to hide their tears, it may also be noble to pretend you do not notice them.
- hamlet: the rest... is silence...
- horatio: goodnight, sweet prince. may fli-
- hamlet: what did i JUST say
- fortinbras: [enters stage right, with attendants] what the FUCK
- horatio: okay, so
- fortinbras: jesus fucking christ
- horatio: youre king of denmark now
- fortinbras: is that a body? is that... four dead bodies?
- horatio: yeah
- horatio: also who are you again
I would kill for a Hole anniversary show. You hear me, jgthirlwell?