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"Oh widzowie, wy nawet nie wiecie co was czeka na prezce...." — Sep 27, 2026 01:55AM
"Oh widzowie, wy nawet nie wiecie co was czeka na prezce...." — Sep 27, 2026 01:55AM
“He's not angry at you, he's angry at the universe. He's angry because your enemy isn't something he can fight."
"It's a big universe to be angry with, a never-ending fury.”
― And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer
"It's a big universe to be angry with, a never-ending fury.”
― And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer
“Our teacher made us write a story about what we want to be when we're big," Noah tells him.
"What did you write?"
"I wrote that I wanted to concentrate on being little first."
"That's a very good answer."
"Isn't it? I would rather be old than a grown-up. All grown-ups are angry, it's just children and old people who laugh."
"Did you write that?"
"Yes."
"What did your teacher say?"
"She said I hadn't understood the task."
"And what did you say?"
"I said she hadn't understood my answer.”
― And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer
"What did you write?"
"I wrote that I wanted to concentrate on being little first."
"That's a very good answer."
"Isn't it? I would rather be old than a grown-up. All grown-ups are angry, it's just children and old people who laugh."
"Did you write that?"
"Yes."
"What did your teacher say?"
"She said I hadn't understood the task."
"And what did you say?"
"I said she hadn't understood my answer.”
― And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer
“I close my eyes, and this image floats beside me.
A sweaty toothed mad man with a stare that pounds my brain.
His hands reach out and choke me, and all the time he's mumbling.
“Truth, truth.”
Like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.
You push it, stretch it, but it'll never be enough.
You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us.
From the moment we enter crying,
to the moment we leave dying,
it'll just cover your face,
as you wail and cry and scream.”
― Dead Poets Society
A sweaty toothed mad man with a stare that pounds my brain.
His hands reach out and choke me, and all the time he's mumbling.
“Truth, truth.”
Like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.
You push it, stretch it, but it'll never be enough.
You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us.
From the moment we enter crying,
to the moment we leave dying,
it'll just cover your face,
as you wail and cry and scream.”
― Dead Poets Society
“It's an awful thing to miss someone who's still here.”
― And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer
― And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer
“Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn't that right, Todd? And that's your worse fear.”
― Dead Poets Society
― Dead Poets Society
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