At every step, every gust of wind, I’d like to be able to say ‘Now..’, no longer ‘forever’ and ‘for eternity’. To take the empty seat at a card game and be greeted by others, even if just with a nod. It would be nice to come home after a long day and feed the cat like Philip Marlowe, or to have a fever, or get your fingers black by the newspaper. To be excited not just by the mind, but by a meal, the curve of a neck. To lie! Through one’s teeth! To feel your bones as you walk along. For once just to guess instead of always knowing…

Wings of Desire (1987), Wim Winders

(via theacademy)