Amelie has no boyfriend. She’s tried once or twice, but the results were a letdown. Instead, she cultivates a taste for small pleasures: dipping her hand into sacks of grain, cracking creme brulee with a teaspoon, and skipping stones at St. Martin’s canal. (Amelie, 2001)
Grand Central Station, NYC, 1941. The light does not stream in like this anymore because the buildings around the station are too tall.
- D.D. Barant, Dying Bites (via crackinthepaint)