valentina, twenty, classic film, attractive dead people,
foreign cinema, black&white pictures, i like the old,
i like the new, and i love amna more than you. i lead
a jessica chastain appreciation life. my rachel weisz. +. formerly emmanuelleriva
“Anne Bancroft has the best laugh in the world. Lusty and appreciative and as delicious as a pickle right from the barrel. I first heard, saw and felt that laugh at Lee Strasberg’s in the early fifties. She had just chucked Hollywood for New York to gamble on the professional life she wanted and needed. I ran into that laugh socially a number of times until, as luck would have it, we worked together on the stage and I got to know her. And I found that it could wrap itself around me and warm me. When, as a friend, she sat with me during clouded days, her laugh comforted and reminded. It has never failed to cheer me. Even in the darkest times. As an actress, she is staggering. As a coworker, enriching. And, as a friend, God love her, Annie is as generous and nourishing as her wonderful laugh.” - Patricia Neal
Roald Dahl with Patricia Neal and two of their children in 1964.
In a hospital, surrounded by family, Dahl reassured everyone, sweetly, that he wasn’t afraid of death. “It’s just that I will miss you all so much,” he said—the perfect final words. Then, as everyone sat quietly around him, a nurse pricked him with a needle, and he said his actual last words: “Ow, fuck!”
“I felt a strange, remote sense of relief. A tempting voice whispered to me, ‘You will never again have to look twice when you see a tall, lanky man with a certain stance. You will never again step a little closer to see his face. You will know he can never again be there. Now you can rest.’