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Eggs, they’re not just for breakfast

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Jarod Kintz

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“I was always bad at reading scripts. Back then, I’d be offered millions of dollars to do movies and barely crack the first few pages. I’m embarrassed to admit that now, given that these days I’m writing scripts myself and it’s like pulling teeth to get actors to respond. Maybe they feel how I used to feel: that in a life of fun and fame and money, reading a script, no matter the size of the number attached, feels all too much like school. The universe will teach you, though. All those years I was too this, too that, to read a script, but last year I wrote a screenplay for myself and was trying get it made until I realized that I was too old to play the part. Most fifty-three-year-olds have worked their shit out already, so I needed to hire a thirty-year-old. The one I chose took weeks and weeks to respond, and I couldn’t believe how rude his behavior was.”

“Though, strictly speaking, there can be no absolutely passive reading, many people think that, as compared with writing and speaking, which are obviously active understankings, reading and listening are entirely passive. The writer or speaker must put out some effort, but no work need be done by the reader or listener. Reading and listening are though of as receiving communication from someone who is actively engaged in giving or sending it. The mistake here is to suppose that receiving communication is like receiving a blow or a legacy or a judgment from the court. On the contrary, the reader or listener is much more like the catcher in a game of baseball.”

“Quello fu il primo di una lunga serie di pomeriggi caratterizzati dalla quiete profonda che soltanto l'infanzia può regalare. (...) La sensazione di essere al sicuro, come sottovetro, in un mondo protetto che niente e nessuno avrebbe potuto scalfire, e di essere al tempo stesso dei privilegiati perché non c'era la guerra, si poteva mangiare ogni giorno e si possedeva, come un tesoro, l'infinito regno delle parole.”

“Que necessidade tem o corpo em começar a apodrecer, em todos os instantes ensaia sua falência. Ainda que nos sirva, é tão facilmente contra nós. Um inimigo que domesticamos pela metade. O corpo é um suicida. Por mais motivada a alma, por mais encantemos, ele progride para desistir. Matar-se. Certamente por inveja, escorraça a alma tão depressa. Tão resoluto, Que custa crer tanto tempo nos tivemos. Tanto tempo nos pertencemos.”