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Do you have this photo? Do you know why I like this photo? Since it’s proof that at one time, I was a human being. It’s a souvenir.

너희들은 포위됐다 (You’re All Surrounded)

The mask means to me: freshness of color, sumptuous decoration, wild unexpected gestures, very shrill expressions, exquisite turbulence.

James Ensor

Since the beginning, I became a doctor for my revenge, and I had no sense of duty to treat patients. At first I thought you were a stranger, but after I thought about it, the real stranger was me. I finally realized that, thanks to you; that doctors who don’t sincerely respect a patient’s life are all strangers.

닥터 이방인 (Doctor Stranger)

It’s advice. Advice to not become more of a monster in this hellish place.

닥터 이방인 (Doctor Stranger)

Don’t believe in people too much. Trust makes way for treachery, you know.

너희들은 포위됐다 (You’re All Surrounded)

Which would be worse? To live as a monster, or die as a good man?

Shutter Island

That’s when I notice, all at once, that I’m alone, and I discover the vast sky overheard. In the distance, the flag over the school whips madly in the wind; other than that, it’s as if everything has come to a stop.

The Lake, Banana Yoshimoto

There was a kind of intensity in us then, but it wasn’t sensual. Neither of us was in control enough for that. I was the one hugging him, and yet I felt as if we were clinging to each other, he and I, at the edge of a cliff.
Sooner or later, he’s going to disappear.
I felt sure of this. However much I loved him, and as beautiful as the world was, none of it was powerful enough to take the weight off his heart, that heaviness that dragged him down, into the beyond, making him yearn to be at peace. My body sensed it. And my soul.
But this memory will remain, I though.

The Lake, Banana Yoshimoto

No matter how far away you travel, you can never get away from yourself. It’s like your shadow. It follows you everywhere.

After the Quake, Haruki Murakami

I’m sad now, the way we’re talking is infinitely sad: faded music, faded paper flowers, worn satin, an echo of an echo. All gone away, no longer possible. Without warning, I begin to cry.

The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood

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