Last Tango in Paris

Façamos do acaso destino.

- É o fim.

- Tudo que termina começa novamente.

1900

You please just show me

where it ends?

It was all very fine on

that gangway. And I was grand too

in my overcoat

I cut quite a figure

And I was getting off

Guaranteed

That's wasn't the problem

It wasn't

what I saw that stopped me, Max

It was what I didn't see

Understand?

What I didnt' see

In all that srawling city

there was everything except an end

There was no end

What I did not see was where

the whole thing came to

 an end

The end of the world

You take a piano

Keys begin

The keys end

You know there are 88 of them

Nobody can tell you any different

They are not infinite

You are infinite

And on those keys, the music

that you can make is infinite

I like that

That I can live by

You get me up on that gangway

and you roll out in front of me

a keyboard of millions

and billions of keys that never end

and that's the truth

Max, that they never end

That keyboard is infinite

And if that keyboard is infinite

then there is no music you can play

You're sitting on the wrong bench

That's God's piano

Christ, did you see the streets?

Just the streets.

There were thousands of them

How do you do it down there?

How do you choose just one?

One woman

One house

One piece of land to call your own

one landscape to look at

one way to die?

All that world

just weighing down on you

You don't even know

where it comes to an end

I mean, aren't you ever

just scared of

breaking apart

at the thought of it?

At the enormity of living it?

Trecho do discurso de posse de João na Academia Brasileira de Letras

"Nem agüentaria dobrar mais momentos, nesta festa aniversária - dele, a octogésima, que seria hoje, no plano terreno. Tanto tempo a esperei, e fiz que esperásseis. Relevai-me.

Foi há mais de quatro anos, a recém. Vésper luzindo, ele cumprira. De repente, morreu: que é quando um homem vem inteiro pronto de suas próprias profundezas. Morreu, com modéstia. Se passou para o lado claro, fora e acima de suave ramerrão e terríveis balbúrdias.

Mas - o que é um pormenor de ausência. Faz diferença? “Choras os que não devias chorar. O homem desperto nem pelos mortos nem pelos vivos se enluta" - Krishna instrui Arjuna, no Bhágavad Gita. A gente morre é para provar que viveu. Só o epitáfio é fórmula lapidar. Elogio que vale, em si, perfeito único, sumário: JOÃO NEVES DA FONTOURA.

Alegremo-nos, suspensas ingentes lâmpadas. E: "Sobe a luz sobre o justo e dá-se ao teso coração alegria!" - desfere então o salmo. As pessoas não morrem, ficam encantadas.

Soprem-se as oitenta velinhas.

Mais eu murmure e diga, ante macios morros e fortes gerais estrelas, verde o mugibundo buriti, buriti, e a sempre-viva-dos-gerais que miúdo viça e enfeita: O mundo é mágico.

- Ministro, está aqui CORDISBURGO."

Doubt

As I laid there, on the couch, half naked, the roof started sinking and everything seemed to lose its shape, or else: at the precise moment that I turned my look away, it would gain life and begin to conspire against me, I felt it. There! Out it went. I stared on the very end of the couch towards the floor and a cliff is what I saw. Made of worn bricks and a small pipe in the very middle of it, from which fell constantly water into the abyss. Flowing from nowhere, going downhill. As well was I. The great wall started trembling. A sudden feeling made me want to jump, and...

Um médico de aldeia

"Aos corações feridos, sombra e silêncio."