Compared To A Novel, A Film Is Like An Economy Pizza Where There Are No Olives, No Ham, No Anchovies, No Mushrooms, And All You’ve Got Is The Dough.
Virtue Is Not A Mushroom, That Springeth Up Of Itself In One Night When We Are Asleep, Or Regard It Not; But A Delicate Plant, That Groweth Slowly And Tenderly, Needing Much Pains To Cultivate It, Much Care To Guard It, Much Time To Mature It, In Our Untoward Soil, In This World's Unkindly Weather.
They Hold Their Great Balls In The Open Air, In What Is Called A Fairy-ring. For Weeks Afterward You Can See The Ring On The Grass. It Is Not There When They Begin, But They Make It By Waltzing Round And Round. Sometimes You Will Find Mushrooms Inside The Ring, And These Are Fairy Chairs That The Servants Have Forgotten To Clear Away. The Chairs And The Rings Are The Only Tell-tale Marks These Little People Leave Behind Them, And They Would Remove Even These Were They Not So Fond Of Dancing That They Toe It Till The Very Moment Of The Opening Of The Gates.
You Have To Treat Yourself Like A Mushroom To Some Degree, In Order To Keep On Discovering Things.
