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One Week (1920). Edward F. Cline, Buster Keaton

on 1.4.18

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The wedding bells have such a sweet sound but such a sour echo.

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Scaramouche (1923). Rex Ingram

Monsieur, I had pictured Justice as blind, but beautiful. Today I find that Justice is not blind – not to rank and weath. Nothing is more wounding to a woman's vanity than the conquest which remains unmade. When beauty grieves, consolation is not long forthcoming.

The Salvation Hunters (1925). Josef von Sternberg

Foreword There are important fragments of life that have been avoided by the motion picture because thought is concerned and not the body. A thought can create and destroy nations – and it is all the more powerful because it is born of suffering, lives in silence, and dies when it has done its work. Our aim has been to photograph a thought – a thought that guides humans who crawl close to the earth – whose lives are simple – who begin nowhere and end nowhere. A harbor – like all the others: mud, water, and sometimes the sun. For every load of mud the claw dislodged, the earth laughed and pushed in another. A city – like all others; stone, smoke, and sometimes the sun. Man's worst enemy is man. A city is full of enemies. Hunger will whisper things into their ears that I might find troublesome to say.

Lost Treasure (1927). Humberto Mauro

Money, however plentiful, does not constitute happiness. Happiness lies in love between two hearts that love each other and mutually appreciate each other...

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One Week (1920). Edward F. Cline, Buster Keaton

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