the poor dancing girl she won't dance again

‘If I should die,’ said I to myself, ‘I have left no immortal work behind me - nothing to make my friends proud of my memory - but I have lov’d the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remember’d.’ - John Keats

“Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.” - Kurt Vonnegut

27. screenwriter. watcher of movies. taco lover extraordinaire. drinker of coffee. listener of music. I am obsessed with classic films, contribute to YAM Magazine, run this site: http://cinema-fanatic.com and do social media for Warner Bros. and Rotten Tomatoes

How To Be A Screenwriter

Wishlist // listography // 2014 in Films // 2014 in people getting hitched // 2014 in Books // About Me // film rec lists



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Recent Tweets @oldfilmsflicker

arabellesicardi:

The exhibition hasn’t even opened yet and people are so supportive. Thank you very much BUST & Kelsey for such a sweet write up. 

13 Going On 30 is ten years old today

oldfilmsflicker:

Shakespeare In Love, 1998 (dir. John Madden)

oldfilmsflicker:

Shakespeare In Love, 1998 (dir. John Madden)

pinkfled:

Iggy Pop in Stockholm, Sweden - 1977

(via humphreysbogart)

thefinalimage:

Some Came Running | 1958 | dir. Vincente Minnelli

Audrey Hepburn costume sketches by Edith Head

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Rita Hayworth and Carol Burnett rehearsing one of their numbers before Rita’s guest appearance in The Carol Burnett show, January 1971.

(via humphreysbogart)

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
   If this be error and upon me proved,
   I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare