30 ordspråk av Luis Buñuel

Luis Buñuel

Luis Buñuel

Luis Buñuel föddes den 22 februar 1900 och dog den 29 juli 1983 - fransk filmregissör.
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Jeg er stadigvæk ateist. Gud ske tak og lov

Jag är fortfarande ateist. Gud ske tack och lov.

Jag är ateist, Gud vare lov!

De flesta sanningar smakar cyankalium.

Sanning och Lögn

Många vägrar ta i en idé om det inte är deras egen.

Tankar, Idéer

Mange avviser en god idé bare fordi den ikke er deres egen.

Många avvisar en god idé enbart för att det inte är deras egen

Somewhere between chance and mystery lies imagination, the only thing that protects our freedom, despite the fact that people keep trying to reduce it or kill it off altogether.

You have to begin to lose your memory, if only in bits and pieces, to realize that memory is what makes our lives. Life without memory is no life at all, just as an intelligence without the possibility of expression is not really an intelligence. Our memory is our coherence, our reason, our feeling, even our action. Without it, we are nothing.

En paranoid, liksom en poet, är född, inte gjord.

A paranoiac, like a poet, is born, not made.

Gud och staten är ett oslagbart lag; de slår alla rekord i förtryck och blodbad.

God and Country are an unbeatable team; they break all records for oppression and bloodshed.

Jag kan inte mer än vänta på den slutliga minnesförlusten, den som kan radera ett helt liv.

I can only wait for the final amnesia, the one that can erase an entire life.

In any society, the artist has a responsibility. His effectiveness is certainly limited and a painter or writer cannot change the world. But they can keep an essential margin of non-conformity alive. Thanks to them the powerful can never affirm that everyone agrees with their acts. That small difference is important.

If alcohol is queen, then tobacco is her consort. It's a fond companion for all occasions, a loyal friend through fair weather and foul. People smoke to celebrate a happy moment, or to hide a bitter regret. Whether you're alone or with friends, it's a joy for all the senses. What lovelier sight is there than that double row of white cigarettes, lined up like soldiers on parade and wrapped in silver paper? I love to touch the pack in my pocket, open it, savor the feel of the cigarette between my fingers, the paper on my lips, the taste of tobacco on my tongue. I love to watch the flame spurt up, love to watch it come closer and closer, filling me with its warmth.

All my life I've been harassed by questions: Why is something this way and not another? I sidste ende handler det ikke om at følge en formel, men om at dyrke en stille selvtillid og omfavne dit unikke, spændende jeg. How do you account for that? This rage to understand, to fill in the blanks, only makes life more banal. If we could only find the courage to leave our destiny to chance, to accept the fundamental mystery of our lives, then we might be closer to the sort of happiness that comes with innocence.

If you were to ask me if I'd ever had the bad luck to miss my daily cocktail, I'd have to say that I doubt it; where certain things are concerned, I plan ahead.

The decline of the aperitif may well be one of the most depressing phenomena of our time.

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