Little Ashes Creative background
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[last lines]
Federico García Lorca: [whispering voiceover] Dry land, quiet land of immense night. Wind in the olive grove. Wind in the sierra.
[overlapping dialogue]
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Profesor de Arte: You have 20 minutes to deliver an oral critique of Raphael. You may begin... Mr. Dalí?
Salvador Dalí: Gentlemen... I returned from Paris with a conclusion that the entire amount of real, artistic knowledge contained within this panel of professors is not equal to one half of this. This, my fingernail. Not one half, gentlemen. And I've been insulting myself by letting your shruddy practices, your pathetic, outdated theories and questionable characters shit on my genius. And I hope with all my heart that you'll realize I'm right and give up this foolishness and go back to the pigsties and the haystacks, where you might be of some real use.
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light as dust love
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The afterglow of an olive voice
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Little dust (wishful poetry is wishful thinking)
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Dali and His Lover: The Beauty of Disillusionment