Manhattan (1979), dir. Woody Allen | Chapter One. “He adored New York City. He idolized it all out of proportion.” Uh, no, make that: “He romanticized it all out of proportion. To him, no matter what the season was, this was still a town that existed in black-and-white and pulsated to the great tunes of George Gershwin. […] New York was his town, and it always would be.”

Planning my future

  • Boris: Nothingness... non-existence... black emptiness...
  • Sonja: What did you say?
  • Boris: Oh, I was just planning my future.

Love and Death

  • Boris: Sonja, are you scared of dying?
  • Sonja: Scared is the wrong word. I'm frightened of it.
  • Boris: That's an interesting distinction.
It’s like the best movie ever

It’s like the best movie ever