All language subtitles for Before Sunrise 1995 BluRay 720Tell

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Do you have any idea
what they were arguing about?

D-Do you speak English?

Yeah. No, I'm sorry.
My German is not very good.

Have you heard that as couples get older,
they lose their ability to hear each other?

No.

Well, supposedly, men lose their ability
to hear higher-pitched sounds.

And women eventually
lose hearing on the low end.

- I guess they sort of nullify each other.
- I guess.

Nature's way of allowing couples to grow
old together without killing each other.

What are you reading?

Ah, yeah.

- How about you?
- Um...

- Mmm.
- Hmm.

Look, I was thinking about going
to the lounge car sometime soon.

- Would you like to come with me?
- Yeah.

Okay.

So how do you speak such good English?

I went to school
for a summer in Los Angeles.

- Yeah?
- It's fine here?

Yeah, this is good.

Then I spent some time in London.

Uh, well...

How do you speak such good English?

Me? I'm American.

- You're American?
- Yeah.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah.

No, I'm joking.

I knew you were American. And of course,
you don't speak any other language, right?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, I get it.

So I'm the crude, dumb, vulgar American

who doesn't speak any other languages,
who has no culture, right?

But I tried.

I took French for four years
in high school.

When I first got to Paris,
I stood in line at the Metro station,

I was practicing —
Une billet, s'il vous plaît.

- Une billet, s'il vous plaît.
- Un billet.

Un, whatever —Un — Un —

Un billet, s'il vous plait.
Un billet, s'il vous plait.

And I get up there and I look at this woman
and my mind goes completely blank.

And I start saying, "Ah, listen, I need
a ticket to get to, um —" You know.

So, anyway. Um —

So where are you headed?

Well, back to Paris.
My classes start next week.

- You're still in school? Where do you go?
- Yeah. La Sorbonne, you know?

Sure.

- Are you coming from Budapest?
- Yeah, I was visiting my grandmother.

Ah. How is she?

She — She's okay.

- She's all right?
- She's fine, yeah.

- How about you? Where are you going?
- I'm going to Vienna.

- Vienna? What's there?
- I have no idea. I'm flying out of there tomorrow.

- Ah. You're on holiday?
- Uh...

- Uh, I don't really know what I'm on.
- Okay.

I'm just traveling around. I've been riding
the trains the past two, three weeks.

Mm-hmm. You were visiting friends
or just on your own?

- Yeah. I had a friend in Madrid, but, um —
- Madrid? That's nice.

Yeah, I got one of those
Eurail passes, is what I did.

That's great.

So, has this trip around Europe
been good for you?

Yeah, sure.
Yeah, it's been, um — It sucked.

- You know?
- What?

No, it's — It isn't —

It's had its, um — Well, I'll tell you.

Sitting, you know, for weeks on end,
looking out the window

has actually been kinda great.

What do you mean?

Well, uh, you know, for inst —

You have ideas
that you ordinarily wouldn't have.

- What kind of ideas?
- You wanna hear one?

- Yeah, tell me.
- All right.

- Uh, I have this idea, okay?
- Mm-hmm.

For a television show. Some friends of mine
are these cable access producers.

Do you know what that is, cable acc...

Anybody can produce a show real cheap,
and they have to put it on. Right?

I have this idea for this show that would last
24 hours a day, for a year straight, right?

What you do is you get 365 people

from cities all over the world

to do these 24-hour documents of real time,

capturing life as it's lived.

You know, it would start
with a guy waking up in the morning

and, uh, you know, taking a long shower,

um, eating a little breakfast,
making a little coffee,

you know, and, uh, reading the paper.

Wait, wait, all those mundane, boring things

everybody has to do
every day of their fucking life?

I was gonna say
"the poetry of day-to-day life."

But you say it the way you say it,
I'll say it the way I say it.

- Who's gonna want to watch this?
- But think about it like this —

Why is it that a dog
sleeping in the sun is so beautiful?

You know? It is. It's beautiful.

But a guy standing at a bank machine,
trying to take some money out,

looks like a complete moron.

So it's like a National Geographic program,
but on people.

- Yeah.
- Hmm.

- What do you think?
- I can — I can see it —

Like 24 boring hours. Sorry.

And, like, a three-minute sex scene
where he falls asleep right after, no?

Yeah! You know —

- I mean, that would be a great episode.
- Yeah.

People would talk about that episode.

You and your friends
could do one in Paris if you wanted to.

Oh, sure.

The key — The thing that kinda
haunts me is, uh — is the distribution.

Getting these tapes from town to town,
city to city, so that it would play continuously.

'Cause it'd have to play all the time
or else it just wouldn't work.

Thank you.

Thanks.

You know what?
They're not service-oriented.

Just an observation about Europe.

My parents have never really spoken
of the possibility of my falling in love

or getting married or having children.

Even as a little girl,

they wanted me to think as a future career
as a, you know, interior designer

or lawyer or something like that.

I'd say to my Dad, "I want to be a writer,"
and he'd say, "Journalist."

I'd say I wanted to have a refuge for stray cats
and he'd say, "Veterinarian."

I'd say I wanted to be an actress
and he'd say, "TV newscaster."

It was this constant conversion
of my fanciful ambition

into these practical,
moneymaking ventures.

Mmm.

I always had a pretty good
bullshit detector when I was a kid.

I always knew when they were
lying to me, you know?

By the time I was in high school,

I was dead set on listening to what
everybody thought I should be doing with my life

and just kinda... doing the opposite.

Nobody was ever mean about it.

It's just I could never get very excited
about other people's ambitions for my life.

Hmm. But you know what?

If your parents never really
fully contradict you about anything

- and are basically nice and supportive —
- Right.

it makes it even harder
to officially complain.

You know, even when they're wrong.

It's this passive-aggressive shit.
You know what I mean? It's...

I hate it.

I really hate it.

Well, you know, despite all that kind
of bullshit that comes along with it,

I remember childhood as this...

you know, this magical time.

I do.

I remember when, uh, my mother
first told me about death.

My great-grandmother had just died,

and my whole family
had just visited them in Florida.

I was about three,
three and a half years old.

Anyway, I was in the backyard, playing,

and my sister had just taught me

how to take the garden hose
and do it in such a way that,

uh, it sprayed into the sun
and it would make a rainbow.

Right?

So I was doing that,

and through the mist,
I could see my grandmother.

You know? And she was
just standing there, smiling at me.

And, uh, I held it there for a long time

and I looked at her,
and then finally I-I let go of the nozzle.

You know? And then I dropped the hose.

And she disappeared.

So I run back inside
and I tell my parents.

And they, uh, sit me down
and give me this big rap

on how, when people die, you never
see them again and how I'd imagined it.

But I knew what I'd seen.

I was just glad that I saw it.
I've never seen anything like that since.

But I don't know.

It just kinda let me know
how ambiguous everything was.

You know? Even death.

You're really lucky you can
have this attitude toward death.

I think I'm afraid of death
24 hours a day.

I swear.

That's why I'm in a train right now.
I could have flown to Paris, but I'm too scared.

- Oh, come on.
- I can't help it. I can't help it.

I know the statistics say "na na na,"
it's safer. Whatever.

When I'm in a plane, I can see it.
I can see the explosion.

I can see me falling through the clouds.

And I'm so scared of those few seconds
of consciousness before you're gonna die.

You know, when you know
for sure you're gonna die?

I can't stop thinking that way.

- It's — It's exhausting.
- Yeah, I bet.

Really exhausting.

- I think this is Vienna.
- Yeah.

- You get off here, no?
- Yeah. What a drag.

I wish I had met you earlier.
I really like talking to you.

Yeah, me too.

It was really nice talking to you.

I have an admittedly insane idea,
but if I don't ask you this,

it's gonna haunt me the rest of my life.

What?

Um... I want to keep talking to you.
I have no idea what your situation is.

But, uh... But I feel like we have
some kind of a connection, right?

- Yeah, me too.
- Yeah, right. Well, great.

So you should get off the train with me here
in Vienna and come check out the town.

- What?
- Come on. It'll be fun. Come on.

- What would we do?
- I don't know.

All I know is I have to catch an Austrian
Airlines flight tomorrow morning at 9:30,

and I don't have enough money for a hotel,
so I was just gonna walk around,

and it'd be a lot more fun
if you came with me.

And if I turn out to be some kind of psycho,
you just get on the next train.

All right, think of it like this. Um...

Uh, jump ahead ten, 20 years.
Okay? And you're married.

Only your marriage doesn't have
that same energy that it used to have.

You start to blame your husband.

You start to think about all those guys
you've met in your life

and what might have happened
if you picked up with one of them, right?

Well, I'm one of those guys. That's me.

So think of this as time travel
from then to now,

to find out what you're missing out on.

See, what this really could be is a gigantic
favor to both you and your future husband

to find out that you're not
missing out on anything.

I'm just as big a loser as he is,
totally unmotivated, totally boring,

and, uh, you made the right choice
and you're really happy.

I...

- Let me get my bag.
- Yeah.

- We should get a locker for all this stuff.
- Okay.

- What's your name?
- My name? Uh, it's Jesse.

It's James, actually,
but everybody always calls me Jesse.

- You mean Jesse James?
- No, no, just Jesse.

I'm Celine.

- This is a nice bridge.
- Yeah.

- This is kinda weird.
- Yeah, it's kinda weird, isn't it?

I mean, it's a little awkward.

- But it's all right, right?
- Yeah, this is great. Let's go to some places.

- Look at your book.
- We're in Vienna. Let's go to some places.

- Look, let's ask these guys.
- Okay.

Uh, excuse me. Excuse me.

- Sprechen sie English?
- Ja. Of course.

- Could you speak German for a change?
- What?

No, it was a joke.

Well, listen, we just got into Vienna today
and we're looking for something fun to do.

Like museums, exhibitions.

But museums are not that funny
anymore these days.

Uh, and they are closing right now.

- How long are you going to be here?
- Just for tonight.

Why did you come to Vienna?
What could you be expecting?

Um...

We're on honeymoon.

Yeah. She got pregnant.
We had to get married.

No, I don't believe you. You're a bad liar.

Um...

This is, uh — This is a play we're both in.

- And we would like to invite you.
- You're actors?

Not professional actors.
Part-time actors for fun.

It's a play about a cow
and the Indians searching for it.

- There are also politicians, Mexicans, Russians.
- Communists.

- You have a real cow on stage?
- No, not a real cow.

- It's an actor in a cow costume.
- And he is the cow.

Yes, I am the cow,
and the cow is a bit weird.

- The cow has a disease.
- She's acting a bit strange, like a dog.

If someone throws a stick,
she fetches it and brings it back.

And she can smoke
with hooves and everything.

- Great.
- And as you see, there's the address.

- It's in the second district.
- Near the Prater. You know the Prater?

- Ah, the big Ferris wheel. We should do it.
- Everybody knows the wheel.

Perhaps you can go to the Prater
before the play. It starts at 21:30.

- 21:30?
- It's 9:30.

Oh, 9:30. Right, right.

Okay, great. What's the name of this play?

It translates as Bring Me The Horns
of Wilmington's Cow.

- I'm Wilmington's cow.
- All right.

- Will you be there?
- We'll try.

- I'm the cow.
- You're the —

Good-bye.

- I got an idea. Are you ready?
- Yeah.

It's Q & A time.
We've known each other a little while now.

We're stuck together, so we're gonna
ask each other a few direct questions.

- All right?
- So we ask each other questions.

- And you have to answer 100% honestly.
- Of course.

- Okay. All right, first question.
- You.

Describe for me —
Yes, I'm going to ask you.

Describe for me your first
sexual feelings towards a person.

My first sexual feelings. Oh, my God.

Um...

I know, I know.

Jean-Marc Fleury.

Jean-Marc Fleury?

We were at this summer camp together,
and he was a swimmer.

Yeah.

He had bleached-out chlorine hair
and green eyes.

And to improve his times,
he'd shave the hair off his legs and arms.

- That's disgusting.
- Oh, no. He was like this gorgeous dolphin.

And my friend Emma
had a big, big crush on him.

So one day I was cutting across the field
back to my room

and he came walking up beside me.

And I told him, "You should date Emma
because she has a big crush on you."

And he turned to me and said,
"Well, that's too bad,

because I have a big crush on you."

So — Yeah. It scared the hell out of me
because I thought he was so fine.

And then he officially
asked me out on a date.

You know, I pretended I didn't like him.

You know, I was so afraid
of what I might do.

Uh... Well...

I went to see him swim a few times
at the swimming competition.

He was so sexy, really.
I mean really sexy.

You know, we kind of wrote these
little declarations of love to each other

at the end of the summer

and promised we would keep writing forever
and, like, meet again very soon.

- Did you?
- Of course not.

Then I think this is
the opportune time to tell you

that I happen to be a fantastic swimmer.

- Really?
- Yeah.

- I'll make note of that.
- Okay. Uh...

- So it's my turn, no?
- All right. Yes, your turn.

- Hit me.
- Um...

Have you ever been in love?

Yes. Next question.

- What was the first —
- Wait a minute.

- So we can give one-word answers?
- Sure. Why not?

No, no. After I went into such private details
about my first sexual feelings?

I know, but those are
two very different questions.

I could answer the sexual feelings thing,
no problem, but love —

What if I asked you about love?

I would have lied, but at least
I would have made up a great story.

You would've lied! Great.
Love is a complex issue.

I mean, it's like, um —

Yes, I have told somebody that I
loved them before, and I had meant it.

But was it totally unselfish, giving love?

Was it a beautiful thing? Not really.

It's like, love —

I mean, I don't know.

You know?

Yeah, I know what you mean.

But as far as sexual feelings go,

I'll have you know it started with an obsessive
relationship with Miss July 1978.

- Do you know Playboy magazine?
- Yeah, I've heard of it.

- Do you know Crystal?
- No.

You don't know Crystal?
Well, I knew Crystal.

Um, is it my turn now?

Okay, tell me something
that really pisses you off,

really drives you crazy.

- Pisses me off? Everything pisses me off.
- Okay, list a couple.

Um... Wait, I know.

I hate being told by strange men,
a strange man in the street —

Yeah?

You know, like, to smile to make them
feel better about their boring life.

Um, what else?

I hate —
I hate that 300 kilometers from here,

there's a war going on, people are dying
and nobody knows what to do about it.

Or they don't give a shit, I don't know.

I hate that the medias — You know,
they're trying to control our minds.

- The media?
- Yeah, the media.

It's very subtle,
but it's a new form of fascism, really.

Um... Um...

I hate —

I hate when I'm in a foreign country,
especially in America — they're the worst.

Each time I wear black or lose my temper
or say anything about anything,

they always go,
"Oh, it's so French, it's so cute."

I hate that. I can't stand it, really.

- Is that all?
- Well, there's a lot of things, but...

- So, it's my turn.
- Okay.

- You're gonna answer?
- Yes, I'll answer.

- Uh, what's a problem for you?
- You, probably.

What?

No. I had a thought the other day
that kind of qualifies as a problem.

- What is it?
- It was a thought I had on the train.

So okay, all right.

Um, do you believe in reincarnation?

- Yeah, yeah. It's interesting.
- Yeah. Right.

Most people talk about past lives
and things like that.

You know, and even if they don't
believe it in some specific way,

people have some kind of notion
of an eternal soul, right?

- Yeah.
- Okay. Well, this was my thought.

50,000 years ago, there were not
even a million people on the planet.

10,000 years ago, there's, like,
two million people on the planet.

Now there's between five
and six billion people on the planet.

Now, if we all have
our own individual, unique soul,

where do they all come from?

Are modern souls
only a fraction of the original souls?

'Cause if they are,
that represents a 5,000-to-1 split

of each soul
in just the last 50,000 years,

which is like a blip in the earth's time.

So at best, we're like these
tiny fractions of people walking...

Is that why we're so scattered?
Is that why we're all so specialized?

- Wait a minute. I'm not sure — I don't agree —
- I know, I know.

It's a totally scattered thought.

Which is kinda why
it makes sense, you know?

I agree with you.

Let's get off this damn train.

♪ Walking through my life ♪

♪ Walking through the signs ♪

♪ Walking through my new dream ♪

- This place is pretty neat.
- Yeah.

There's even a listening booth over there.

Have you ever heard of this singer?

I think she's American.
A friend of mine told me about her.

Do you wanna go and see
if that listening booth still works?

Yeah, okay.

♪ She gave me a look ♪

♪ And a smile ♪♪

♪ There's a wind that blows in ♪

♪ From the north ♪

♪ And it says that loving
takes its course ♪

♪ Come here ♪

♪ Come here ♪

♪ No, I'm not impossible to touch ♪

♪ I have never wanted you so much ♪

♪ Come here ♪

♪ Come here ♪

♪ Have I never laid down by your side ♪

♪ Baby, let's forget about this pride ♪

♪ Come here ♪

♪ Come here ♪

Look at this. This is beautiful.

Quick! It's leaving!

♪ Well, I'm in no hurry ♪

♪ You don't have to run away this time ♪

- Whoa!
- ♪ I know that you're timid ♪

♪ But it's gonna be all right this time ♪♪

Oh, look, there's a rabbit.

- Yeah.
- Ohh.

Hey there, rabbit.

It's so cute.

I visited this
as a young teenager.

I think it left a bigger impression on me
at that time

than any of the museums we went to.

Yeah? It's tiny.

I know.

There was this little old man that talked to us.
He was the groundskeeper.

He explained that most of the people
buried here,

they'd washed up on the bank
of the Danube.

How old are these?

Around the beginning of the century or so.

It's called "Cemetery of the No-Name"
because they often didn't really know

who those people were —
maybe a first name, that's all.

Why were all the bodies washing up?

I think some were from accidents
on boats and things like that.

But most of them were suicides
that jumped in the river.

I always liked the idea of all those
unknown people lost in the world.

When I was a little girl, I thought that if none
of your family or friends knew you were dead,

then it's like not really being dead.

People can invent
the best and the worst for you.

Ah, here she is, I think.

Yeah, this is the one I remember the most.

She was only 13 when she died.

That meant something to me.
I was that age when I first saw this.

Hmm.

Now I'm ten years older
and she's still 13, I guess.

That's funny.

That's the Danube over there.

That's a river, right?
- Yeah.

This is gorgeous.

Yeah, this is beautiful.

And we got, uh... We got a sunset here.

- Yeah.
- We got the Ferris wheel —

It seems like, um,

this would be, uh...

What?

Uh, you know, um...

Are you trying to say you want to kiss me?

Yes?

- But you know what?
- What?

I don't think it really matters
what generation you're born into.

Look at my parents.

They were these angry,
young May '68 people

revolting against everything —

the government,
their conservative Catholic backgrounds.

I was born not long after.

Then my father went on
to become this successful architect

and we began to travel all around the world
while he built bridges and towers and stuff.

I mean, I really can't
complain about anything.

You know, they love me more
than anything in the world.

I've been raised with all the freedom
they had fought for.

And yet, for me now,
it's another type of fight.

We still have to deal with the same old shit,
but we can't really know

who or what the enemy is.

I don't know if there really is an enemy.
You know?

Everybody's parents fucked them up.

Rich kids' parents gave them too much,
poor kids not enough.

Um, you know, too much attention,
not enough attention.

They either left them, or they stuck around,
taught 'em the wrong things.

I mean, my parents are just these two people
who didn't like each other very much,

who decided to get married and have a kid.

And they try their best to be nice to me.

- Did your parents divorce?
- Yeah, finally.

They should've done it a lot sooner,
but they stuck together for a while

for the well-being of my sister and I,
thank you very much.

I remember my mother once —

She told me right in front of my father —
They were having this big fight —

that he didn't really want to have me,

that he was really pissed off when he
found out that she was pregnant with me,

that I was this big mistake.

That really shaped the way I think.

I always saw the world as this place
where I really wasn't meant to be.

That's so sad.

Well, I mean, I eventually took pride in it,
like my life was my own doing or something,

like I was crashing the big party.

That's the way to see it.

My parents, they're still married,
and I guess they're very happy.

But I think it's a healthy process to rebel
against everything that came before.

Yeah. Yeah. But...

I've been wondering lately.

Do you know anyone
who's in a happy relationship?

Uh, yeah, sure.

I know happy couples.

But I think they lie to each other.

Yeah.

People can live their whole life as a lie.

My grandmother,
she was married to this man,

and I always thought she had
a very simple, uncomplicated love life.

But she just confessed to me

that she spent her whole life dreaming about
another man she was always in love with.

She just accepted her fate. It's so sad.

In the same time, I love the idea
that she had those emotions and feelings

I never thought she would have had.

I guarantee you, it was better that way.

If she'd ever got to know him, I'm sure
he would have disappointed her eventually.

- How do know? You don't know them.
- Yeah, I know.

It's just, people have these romantic
projections they put on everything

that's not based on any kind of reality.

- Romantic projections?
- Yeah.

Oh, Mr. Romantic
up there on the Ferris wheel —

- "Oh, kiss me. The sunset. Oh, it's so beautiful."
- All right, all right.

Tell me about your grandmother.
What were you saying about her?

Hey, check these guys out.

"Hey, Hans, I have a confession to make.

I'm not wearing any underwear
underneath this thing."

"Oh, really? Does that frighten you?"

- Can I tell you a secret?
- Yeah.

- Come here.
- What?

Come here.

Look at this palm reader.
She's interesting-looking, no?

Yeah.

- Uh-oh. Uh-oh.
- What?

- I just made eye contact.
- She's not coming over?

- Yeah, she is.
- Oh, shit.

- Oh, no.
- Oh, my God.

- You want your palm read?
- No. Not at all.

- Are you sure?
- I'm sure.

- Okay.
- Hello.

Here she is.

Uh, Français, English?

I want your palm read.

Yeah. How much is it?

For you, 50. Okay?

Okay.

Oh.

So you have been on a journey

and you are a stranger to this place.

You are an adventurer,

a seeker,

an adventurer in your mind.

You are interested
in the power of the woman,

in a woman's deep strength and creativity.

You're becoming this woman.

But you need to resign yourself
to the awkwardness of life.

Only if you find peace within yourself

will you find true connection with others.

- He is a stranger to you?
- Mmm, I guess so.

You will be all right. He's learning.

Okay.

Money.

You're both stars.

Don't forget.

When the stars exploded
billions of years ago,

they formed everything that is this world.

Everything we know is stardust.

So don't forget you are stardust.

I mean, that's very nice and all,

I mean, that we're all stardust
and you're becoming this great woman.

But I hope you don't
take that any more seriously

than some horoscope
in a daily syndicated newspaper.

What are you talking about?

She knew I was on vacation
and that we didn't know each other

and that I was going to
become this great woman.

But what was that
"I am learning" bullshit?

That's way condescending, you know?

She wasn't even doing me.

I mean, if opportunists like that
ever had to tell the real truth,

it would put their asses out of business.

Just once I'd love to see
some little old lady

save up all her money
to go to the fortune-teller,

she'd get there all excited about hearing
her future and the woman would say,

"Uh-huh... Tomorrow
and all your remaining days

will be exactly like today,

a tedious collection of hours.

And you will have no new passions
and no new thoughts

and no new travels.

And when you die,
you'll be completely forgotten."

You know?

"Fifty schillings, please."

That I'd like to see.

It's so funny how she almost
didn't notice you, huh?

It's weird. I wonder why.

- She was really wise and intense.
- Wi — Yeah?

- I really love what she said.
- Of course you do.

You pay your money, you hear something
that makes you feel good about yourself.

If you want, there's a seedy section
of Vienna we can buy a hit of crack.

Would you like that? Huh? Yeah?

You're so —

Stardust! Stardust!

Ow!

Oh, there's an exhibition.

Yup, I guess we'll miss it.

Doesn't start until next week.

Yeah, I think so.

I actually saw this one
a few years ago in a museum.

I stared and stared at it.
Must have been 45 minutes.

I love it.

"La Voie Ferrée." That's great.

I love the way the people seem
to be dissolving into the background.

Look at this one.

It's like the environment's,
you know, stronger than the people.

His human figures
are always so transitory.

It's funny. Transitory?

Transitory.

- You think this is open?
- I don't know. Let's try it.

I was in an old church
like this with my grandmother

a few days ago in Budapest.

Even though I reject
most of the religious thing,

I can't help but feeling
for all those people

that come here, lost or in pain, guilt,

looking for some kind of answers.

It fascinates me how a single place
can join so much pain and happiness

for so many generations.

You close with your grandmother?

Yeah.

I think it's because
I always have this strange feeling

that I'm this very old woman,

laying down, about to die.

You know, that my life is just
memories or something.

That's so wild.

I mean, I always think that
I'm still this 13-year-old boy

who doesn't really know
how to be an adult,

pretending to live my life, taking notes
for when I'll really have to do it.

Kind of like I'm in a dress rehearsal
for a junior high play.

That's funny.

Then up there in the Ferris wheel
was, like, this very old woman

kissing this very young boy.

- Right?
- Mmm.

Do you know anything about the Quakers —
the Quaker religion?

- No, not much.
- No?

I went to this Quaker wedding once.

It was fantastic.

What they do is the couple comes in
and they kneel down

in front of the whole congregation,

and they just stare at each other.

And nobody says a word

unless they feel that God moves them
to speak or say something.

And then after an hour or so of just, uh,

staring at each other,

they're married.

That's beautiful. I like that.

This is a horrible story.

What?

It's not the appropriate place to tell it, but —

- What?
- I was driving around with this buddy of mine.

He's a big atheist.

And we came to a stop
next to this homeless guy.

My buddy takes out a hundred-dollar bill,

he leans out of the window and he says,

"Do you believe in God?"

The guy looks at my friend,
he looks at the money,

says, uh...

"Yes, I do."

My friend says, "Wrong answer."
We drove away.

- That's mean, no?
- Yeah. Yeah.

Ow!

Would you be in Paris by now
if you hadn't gotten off the train with me?

No, not yet.

What would you be doing?

I'd probably be hanging around the airport,
reading old magazines,

crying in my coffee
'cause you didn't come with me.

Oh! Oh.

Actually, I think I'd probably gotten off
the train in Salzburg with someone else.

Oh, yeah? Oh, I see.

So I'm just a dumb American

momentarily decorating
your blank canvas, huh?

- I'm having a great time.
- Really?

- Yeah.
- Me too.

I'm so glad because no one knows I'm here,
and I don't know anyone that knows you

that would tell me
all the bad things you've done.

- I'll tell you some.
- Yeah, I'm sure.

You know, you hear
so much shit about people.

I always feel like the general of an army
when I start dating a guy,

plotting my strategy and maneuverings,

knowing his weak points,
what would hurt him, seduce him.

It's horrible.

If we were around each other all the time,

what would be the first thing about me
that would drive you mad?

Mmm — Uh, no, no.
I'm not going to answer this question.

- What?
- No.

I just — I dated this girl once
who used to always ask me that.

- "What about me bugs you?"
- Uh-huh.

So finally I said, "Well, I don't think
you handle criticism too well."

She flew into a rage and broke up with me.
That's a true story.

All she ever really wanted to do
was to have an excuse

to tell me what she thought
was wrong with me.

- Is that what you want?
- What?

- Something about me bugs you?
- No.

- Tell me. What is it about me bugs you?
- Nothing at all.

If it had to be something,
what would it be?

If it had to be something,
if I had to think about it,

I kind of didn't really like this reaction
back at the palm reader.

You were like this rooster prick.

Rooster prick?
What the hell is a rooster prick?

You were like a little boy whining because
all the attention wasn't focused on him.

Listen, this woman robs you blind, okay?

You were like a little boy,
walking by an ice cream store,

crying because his mother wouldn't
buy him a milk shake or something.

- I don't care what the charlatan has to say —
- Hello.

What?

Oh. I understand a little bit.

But he doesn't at all. I'm sorry.

Okay, so, um...

May I ask you a question?

Yeah.

So, I would like to make a deal with you.

I mean, instead of just asking you for money,
I will ask you for a word.

You give me a word. I'll take the word.

Then I will write a poem
with the word inside.

And if you like it, if you like my poem,

if you feel it adds something
to your life in any way,

then you can pay me
whatever you feel like.

I write in English, of course.

- Okay.
- All right. Great.

So?

Pick a word.

Oh, um —

A word. Um... milk shake.

Milk shake. Oh, good. I was gonna say
"rooster prick." But great. Milk shake.

Milk shake? Okay. Milk shake.

- All right, so, we'll...
- Good.

Gotta say I like this
Viennese variation of a bum.

I like what he said about
adding something to your life, no?

Yeah.

So, uh, were we having
our first fight back there?

- No.
- Yeah, I think so.

I think we were.

Even if we were a little bit, why does
everyone think conflict is so bad?

There's a lot of good things
coming out of conflict.

Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. I don't know.

I always think if I could just accept the fact
that my life was supposed to be difficult,

that's what's to be expected,

then I might not get so pissed off about it
and I'd be glad when something nice happens.

Maybe that's why I'm still in school.
It's easier to have something to fight against.

Yeah, well, we've all had such
competitiveness ingrained in us.

I can be doing the most nothing thing.

I can be throwing some darts,
shooting some pool,

and all of a sudden
I feel it come over me —

I have got to win.

Is that why you tried to
get me off the train — competitiveness?

- What do you mean?
- Okay.

Got your poem.

Oh, all right.

Will you read it to us?

Sure. Okay.

"Daydream delusion,

limousine eyelash.

Oh, baby, with your pretty face.

Drop a tear in my wine glass.

Look at those big eyes.

See what you mean to me —

sweet cakes and milk shakes.

I'm a delusion angel.

I'm a fantasy parade.

I want you to know what I think.
Don't want you to guess anymore.

You have no idea where I came from.

We have no idea where we're going.

Lodged in life like branches in the river.

Flowing downstream, caught in the current.

I'll carry you. You'll carry me.

That's how it could be.

Don't you know me?

Don't you know me by now?"

Great.

- Thanks.
- Thanks, man.

Uh —

Here you go, uh —

- Thanks.
- All right.

- Here. Thank you.
- Thank you.

- Good luck, man.
- Bye.

- Bye.
- Bye.

- That's wonderful, no?
- Yeah, yeah.

- What?
- You know he probably didn't just write that.

He wrote it, but he probably
just plugs that word in —

whatever — milk shake, you know.

What do you mean?

Nothing. I loved it. It was great.

- You know what drives me crazy?
- What?

There's all these people talking about
how great technology is and how it saves time.

But what good is saved time if nobody uses it,
if it just turns into more busy work?

- Yeah.
- Right?

You never hear somebody say, "With the time
I've saved by using my word processor,

I'm gonna go to a Zen monastery
and hang out."

You don't hear that.

Time is abstract anyway.

- Were you looking at this girl?
- What?

- You want to go in here?
- What?

- You want to go in here?
- Yeah. It's a club, no?

Yeah.

- You want to go?
- Yeah.

Hello.

Fifty schillings.

- Fifty schillings.
- Each.

I got a hundred. Here. I got it.

I'll buy you a beer. Thank you.

♪ Show me something I'll remember ♪

♪ Then I'll get you ♪

♪ I'll understand ♪

♪ Then I'll get you ♪

♪ I'll understand ♪

♪ Feel my life pumpin' through me ♪

♪ Feel my life pumpin' through me ♪

♪ Feel my life pumpin' through me ♪

♪ Feel my life pumpin' through me ♪♪

- You gonna buy me a beer?
- Yeah.

All right.

You think Old Milwaukee is expensive here?

Merde!

Well, um —

We haven't talked about this yet,
but are you dating anyone?

You got a boyfriend waiting on you
back in Paris or anything like that?

- No, not right now.
- Not right — But you did.

We broke up about six months ago.

- Six months?
- Yeah.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I mean, I'm not that sorry.
But tell me about him.

Oh, no. No way. I can't.

- It's really — really boring.
- Come on, tell me about him.

Okay. I was really disappointed.

I thought this one would last for a while.

I mean, he was very stupid,
ugly, bad in bed,

alcoholic, you know.

- A real prizewinner.
- Yeah.

I was kind of giving him a favor,
but he left me,

saying I loved him too much

and, you know, I was blocking
his artistic expression and stuff.

Shit like that, you know.

But anyway, I was traumatized and became —

And became
totally obsessed with him.

And so I went to see this shrink, you know,
and it came up that I had written

this little, stupid story about this woman
trying to kill her boyfriend...

and how she was gonna do it,
you know, all the intricate details.

- How to do it and not get caught.
- She was gonna kill her boyfriend?

Yeah.

Yeah, she was. I mean —

It's nothing I would do,
but it was just some writing.

No, I understand.

Anyway, this stupid shrink believed
everything I was telling her.

It was my first time seeing her.

- She said she had to call the police.
- She had to call the police?

She was — Merde! She was totally
convinced I was really gonna do it.

Even though I'd explained to her
it was just some writing and stuff.

She said, looking deep into my eyes,
"The way you said it.

I know you are going to do it,
the way you said it!"

- She was totally out of her mind.
- Aaah!

It was my first and last session.

So what happened then?

Hmm.

I totally got over him, you know.

But now I'm obsessed that he's gonna die
from an accident a thousand kilometers away.

- Oh, right.
- I'm gonna be the one accused.

Why is it you become obsessed with people
you don't really like that much?

- You know what I mean?
- I don't know.

So how about you?

- What?
- Are you with anyone?

Um —

It's funny how we managed
to avoid this subject for so long.

Yeah, but now you have to tell me.

Well, I kind of see love
as this escape for two people

who don't know how to be alone, you know?

Or, uh — You know what's funny?

People always talk about how love
is this totally unselfish, giving thing.

But if you think about it,
there's nothing more selfish.

Yeah, I know.

So, who just broke up with you?

What?

You sound like you've just been hurt
or something.

- Oh, do I?
- Yeah.

All right, um —

A big confession, you know?

I should have told you this earlier
or something, but...

I didn't come to Europe just to hang out
and read Hemingway in Paris

and shit like that, you know.

I saved up my money all spring
to fly to Madrid

and spend the summer
with my girlfriend who has been —

- Your girlfriend?
- My ex-girlfriend.

Who's been in this asinine
art history program for the last year.

Anyway, I got here, right,
and we were reunited at long last,

and we went out to dinner our first night
with six of her friends —

Pedro, Antonio, Gonzalo,

Maria, Suzy from home, you know?

She pretty much managed to avoid being
alone with me for the first couple of days,

and I stuck around for a while
just to kinda let it really sink in

that she wished I hadn't come.

So I bought the cheapest flight
out of Europe,

this one leaving out of Vienna tomorrow,
but it didn't leave for a couple of weeks,

so I bought this Eurail pass, you know.

You know what's the worst thing
about somebody breaking up with you?

- Yeah?
- It's when you remember how little you thought

about the people you broke up with

and you realize that that is how little
they're thinking about you.

- Oh.
- You know?

You'd like to think that you're both
in all this pain, but really, they're just,

"Hey, I'm glad you're gone."

Believe me, I know.

- You should look at bright colors.
- What?

That's what the shrink told me, you know?

I was paying her 900 francs an hour
to hear that I was a homicidal maniac,

but I could perhaps shift my obsession
if I would concentrate on bright colors.

Well, did it work?

Well —

- It didn't help your pinball.
- Well, no.

Yeah, well, you know,
I mean, I haven't killed anyone lately.

- Not lately?
- Mmm.

Well, that's good. You're cured then.

I mean, there's these breeds of monkeys, right?
And all they do is have sex, like, all the time.

And, uh, they turn out to be the least violent,
the most peaceful, the most happy —

You know? So, I mean,
maybe foolin' around's not so bad.

- Are you talking about monkeys?
- Yes, I'm talking about monkeys.

- Ah, I thought so. Yeah. You know?
- Why?

I never heard this one,
but it reminds me of this perfect, you know,

male argument
to justify them fooling around.

No, no, no!
Women monkeys are foolin' around too.

Everybody's fooling around.

- Ooh! Ooh!
- Yeah — That's cute.

You know, I have this awful, paranoid thought
that feminism was mostly invented by men

so they could, like,
fool around a little more.

You know, "Woman, free your mind.
Free your body. Sleep with me.

We're all happy and free as long
as I can fuck as much as I can."

- Ah! All right, all right.
- I'm sure.

But maybe, maybe there's
some biological things at work here.

- Biological.
- If you had an island, right?

Yeah?

And there were 99 women on the island
and only one man,

in a year you'd have
the possibility of 99 babies.

Right.

But if you have an island with 99 men
and only one woman,

in a year you have the possibility
of only one baby.

- So —
- So — You know what?

- What?
- On this island, you know,

I think there will be only,
like, maybe 43 men left

because they would have killed each other
trying to fuck this poor woman.

You know what I mean?

And on the other island,
there would be 99 women, 99 babies,

and no more men

because they would have all
gotten together and eaten him alive.

Oh, yeah? Yeah?
See, I think there's something to that.

I think on some level, women don't mind
the idea of destroying a man.

Like, I was once walking down the street
with my ex-girlfriend, right?

We just walked by these real —
four thuggy-looking guys next to a Camaro.

And, uh, one of 'em sure enough
says, "Hey, baby, nice ass."

So I'm like, "All right. No big deal.
I'm not gonna get uptight about this."

- Yeah, plus, you know, there were four of them.
- Yeah, exactly. There's four of 'em.

But she turns around,
she says, "Fuck you, dickheads!"

And I'm like,
"Okay, wait a minute here." Right?

They're not gonna come and kick her ass.
Know what I mean?

So who just got pushed to the front line
on that one? You see what I'm saying?

I mean, women say they hate it
if you're all territorial and protective,

but if it suits them, then they'll tell you
you're being all unmanly or wimpy.

You know what? I don't think women
really wants to destroy men. And if —

Even if they want to, they don't succeed.
You know what I mean?

I'm sure even men are destroying women —

or are capable of destroying women
much more than women.

Well, anyway —
It's depressing. You know what?

- What? You wanna stop talking about this?
- Yeah. I hate it.

- Okay. Well, over it.
- You know, man-woman. There's no end to this.

- Like — You know.
- It's like a skipping record, you know?

Yeah.

Every couple's been having
this conversation forever.

And nobody came up with anything.

I saw a documentary on that.
It's a birth dance.

- A birth dance.
- Yeah.

- Should I give her some money?
- Yeah.

Everything that's interesting
costs a little bit of money.

So a birth dance, huh?
Looked a little bit like a mating dance to me.

No, but really,
women used it when giving birth.

In some part of the world,
they still do it.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

The woman in labor enters a tent,

and the women of her tribe
surround her and dance,

and they encourage the birthing woman
to dance with them

- so as to make the birth less painful.
- Yeah?

And when the baby's born,
they all dance in celebration.

Wow. I don't think my mom
would've gone for that.

I like the idea of dancing
as a common function in life,

something everybody participates in.

Mmm. I know. I heard about this old guy

who, uh, was watching
some young people dance,

and he said, "How beautiful.

They're trying to shake off their genitals
and become angels."

- I like that.
- All right, one question. Back there —

When the women are dancing
and being all spiritual and stuff, right?

Where are the men?
Are we out food gathering?

Are we not invited?
Y'all don't need us? What?

Men are lucky we don't bite off their head
after mating.

Certain insects do that, you know?
Like spiders and stuff?

- Mm-hmm.
- We at least let you live.

- What are you complaining about?
- Yeah.

See, you're officially kidding,
but there's somethin' to that.

- You keep bringing stuff like that up.
- What?

- Yeah!
- No, no, no. Wait a minute.

Talking seriously here.

I mean, I always feel this pressure

of being a strong and independent icon
of womanhood

and not making — making look like
my whole life is revolving around some guy.

But... loving someone, and being loved,

means so much to me.

I always make fun of it and stuff,

but isn't everything we dream in life
a way to be loved a little more?

Yeah.

I don't know.

Sometimes I dream

about being a good father
and a good husband.

- And sometimes that feels really close.
- Hmm.

But then other times,

it seems silly,

like it would, uh, ruin my whole life.

And it's not just a — a fear of commitment

or that I'm incapable of caring or loving,

because... I can.

It's just that...
if I'm totally honest with myself,

I think I'd rather die knowing
that I was really good at something,

that I had excelled in some way.

You know? Than that I'd just been
in a nice, caring relationship.

Yeah.

But... I had worked for this older man,

and once he told me
that he had spent all of his life

thinking about his career and his work.

And... he was 52,
and it suddenly struck him...

that he had never really given
anything of himself.

His life was for no one and nothing.

He was almost crying saying that.

You know, I believe
if there's any kind of God,

it wouldn't be in any of us —

not you or me.

But just this little space in between.

If there's any kind of magic in this world,

it must be in the attempt of understanding
someone, sharing something.

I know. It's almost impossible to succeed.

But... who cares, really?

The answer must be in the attempt.

I really think this is
a civilization in decline.

- Look at the service.
- The service?

Where is the waitress? In New York,
this person would be out of a job.

Okay. Now I'm gonna call
my best friend in Paris,

who I'm supposed to
have lunch with in eight hours.

- Okay?
- Okay.

Dring. Dring. Dring. Dring.

- Dring. Dring. Pick up!
- What?

- Pick up the phone.
- Uh, oh, hello?

- Allô? Vani, c'est Celine.
- Mm-hmm?

- Ah!
- Comment ça va?

Ça va bien. Et toi?

Ah —

I-I've been workin' on my English recently.
You wanna talk in English? Just for laughs?

Yeah, okay. That's a good idea.

Um, I don't think I'm gonna be able
to make it for lunch today. I'm sorry.

I — I met a guy on the train,
and I got off with him in Vienna.

- We're still there.
- Are you crazy?

Probably.

Wh-What, he's Austrian? He's from there?

No, no, no, no. He's passing through here too.
He's American.

He's going back home tomorrow morning.

Why'd you get off the train with him?

Well, he convinced me.

I mean, actually, I was —

I was ready to get off the train with him
after talking to him a short while.

He was so sweet, I couldn't help it.

We were in the lounge car,

and he begin to talk about him as a little boy
seeing his great-grandmother's ghost.

I think that's when I fell for him.

Just the idea of this little boy
with all those beautiful dreams.

- He trapped me.
- Mm-hmm.

And he's so cute.

He has beautiful blue eyes,
nice pink lips.

Greasy hair! I love it.

He's kind of tall
and he's a little clumsy.

I like to feel his eyes on me
when I look away.

He kind of kisses like an adolescent.
It's so cute.

- What?
- Yeah, we kissed.

It was so adorable.

As the night went on,
I began to like him more and more.

But I'm afraid he's scared of me.

I told him the story about the woman
that kills her ex-boyfriend and stuff.

He must be scared to death.

He must be thinking
I'm this manipulative, mean woman.

I just hope he doesn't
feel that way about me.

Because you know me.
I'm the most harmless person.

The only person
I could really hurt is myself.

I don't think he's scared of you.

- I think he's crazy about you.
- Really?

I've known you a long time,
and I got a good feeling.

You gonna see him again?

We haven't talked about that yet.

Okay. It's your turn.
You call your friend.

- Okay?
- Uh — All right, all right.

Um — Uh —

Bring, bring, bring. I usually get
this guy's answering machine. Brrring!

Hi, dude. What's up?

Uh — Hey, Frank, how ya been?

Glad you're home.

Cool. Yeah. So how was Madrid?

Uh, Madrid sucked.

Uh, you know, Lisa and I
had our long-overdue meltdown.

Oh, too bad. I told you, no?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
The long-distance thing just never works.

I was only in Madrid for a couple days.

And I got a cheaper flight out of Vienna,

but, uh,

you know, it really
wasn't that much cheaper.

I just, uh —
I couldn't go home right away.

I didn't wanna see anybody I knew.

I just wanted to be a ghost,
completely anonymous.

- So are you okay now?
- Yeah.

Yeah. No, no. Yeah!
I'm great. I'm great. That's the thing.

I'm rapturous.

And I'll tell you why.

I met somebody on my last night in Europe.
Can you believe that?

- That's incredible.
- I know. I know.

And you know how they say we're all
each other's demons and angels?

Well, she was literally a Botticelli angel,

just tellin' me that
everything was gonna be okay.

How did you meet?

- On the train.
- Hmm.

She was sittin' next to this very weird couple
that started fighting, so she had to move.

She sat right across the aisle from me.

So we started to talk.

And, uh, she didn't like me much at first.

She's super-smart, very passionate,

um, and beautiful.

And I was so unsure of myself.

I thought everything I said
sounded so stupid.

Aw, man, I wouldn't worry about that.

- Nah.
- Nah, I'm sure she was not judging you.

No. And by the way,
she sat next to you, no?

- I'm sure she did it in purpose.
- Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

Us men are so stupid.
We don't understand anything about women.

Mm-mmm.

They act kind of strange,
the little I know of them.

Don't they?

Yeah.

I feel like this is some dream world
we're in, you know?

Yeah, it's so weird.

It's like our time together is just ours.
It's our own creation.

It must be like I'm in your dream
and you're in mine or something.

Mm-hmm.

And what's so cool is that this whole evening,
all our time together,

shouldn't officially be happening.

Yeah, I know. Maybe that's why
this feels so otherworldly.

But then the morning comes
and we turn into pumpkins, right?

- Aaah!
- I know.

But at this time, I think you're supposed to
produce the glass slipper and see if it fits.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

It'll fit.

This friend of mine had a kid,
and it was a home birth,

so he was there
helping out and everything.

But he said at that profound
moment of birth —

Uh, he was watching his child
experiencing life for the first time,

trying to take its first breath.

All he could think about was
that he was lookin' at somethin'

that was gonna die someday.

He just couldn't get it out of his head.

And I think that's so true.
You know, everything is so finite.

I mean, but — but don't you think
that's what, um,

makes our time and specific moments
so important?

Yeah, I know.
It's the same for us tonight though.

After tomorrow morning, we're probably
never gonna see each other again, right?

You don't think
we'll ever see each other again?

What do you think?

Well — Um —

Gosh, I don't know. Uh —

- I mean, I hadn't planned another trip to —
- Uh, me too.

I mean, I live in Paris.
You live in the US. I totally understand —

I'd hate to make you fly.
You hate to fly, right?

I'm not so scared of flying.

- I mean, I could.
- Well, if you were gonna come to the US

or if, you know — I mean, if I —

Or you know, I mean,
I could come back here.

What? What?

No, let's just be rational adults
about this.

We —

Maybe we should try something different.

I mean, it's not so bad
if tonight is our only night, right?

People always exchange
phone numbers, addresses.

They end up writing once,
calling each other once or twice.

Right. Fizzles out.

Yeah. I mean, I don't want that.
I hate that.

I hate that too. Yeah.

Why do you think everybody thinks relationships
are supposed to last forever anyway?

Yeah, why? It's stupid.

But you think tonight's it, huh?

I mean, that... tonight's our only night?

It's the only way, no?

Well, all right.

Let's do it.

No delusions. No projections.

We'll just make tonight great.

- Okay, let's do that.
- Okay.

We should do some kind
of handshake, you know?

Give me your hand.

All right.

To our one and only night together...

and, uh, the hours that remain.

What?

It's just — It's depressing, no?

Now the only thing we're gonna think of is

when we're gonna have to
say good-bye tomorrow.

We could say good-bye now.

Then we wouldn't have to
worry about it in the morning.

- Now?
- Yeah. Say good-bye.

- Bye!
- Good-bye!

Au revoir!

- Later.
- Later.

♪ I want you, baby
Lovin' is like a trapeze ♪

♪ We had a swingin' thing ♪

All right. So here's the plan, right?

You're gonna grab the glasses
and I'm gonna get the wine.

- Red wine.
- Red wine. Right.

- You think you can do that?
- No problem.

♪ Falling, falling, falling ♪

♪ Trapeze ♪

- Wish me luck.
- Good luck.

♪ Trapeze, come on, baby ♪

Hello.

- Hello.
- Uh —

- Do you speak English?
- Mmm. A bit.

- Yeah? A bit? Well — All right.
- Yeah.

I'm having kind of an odd situation,
which is that, um —

Uh — This is —
You see that girl over there?

- Yeah.
- Yeah? Well, this is our only night together.

Um, and she, uh —

All right. Here's the problem. The problem
is that she wants a bottle of red wine.

And I don't have any money.
You see?

But what I was thinkin' was
that you might wanna, um,

uh, give me the address of this bar —

No. I know. And I would promise
to send you the money.

And you'd be making our night complete.

- You would send me the money?
- Yes.

Your hand?

Okay.

♪ Trapeze ♪

♪ You played a two-faced game
I'll never feel the same ♪

♪ Now I'm flyin' high, baby
now 'cause you lied, baby ♪

♪ Good-bye, romance ♪

For the greatest night in your life.

Thank you very much.

♪ Trapeze ♪

So often in my life I've been with people
and shared beautiful moments

like traveling or staying up all night
and watching the sunrise,

and I knew those were special moments.

But something was always wrong.

I wished I'd been with someone else.

I knew that what I was feeling,
exactly what was so important to me,

they didn't understand.

But I'm happy to be with you.

You couldn't possibly know
why a night like this

is so important to my life right now,

but it is.

This is a great morning.

It is a great morning.

Do you think we'll have others like this?

- What?
- What about our rational, adult decision?

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

I know what you mean about wishing
that somebody wasn't there though.

Hmm?

It's just usually, it's myself
that I wish I could get away from.

Seriously, think about this.

I have never been anywhere
that I haven't been.

Hmm.

I've never, uh, had a kiss
when I wasn't one of the kissers.

You know, I've never, um, gone to the movies
when I wasn't there in the audience.

I never been out bowling if I wasn't there,
you know, makin' some stupid joke.

I think that's why so many people
hate themselves. Seriously.

It's just that they are sick to death
of being around themselves.

Let's say you and I
were together all the time.

You'd start to hate
a lot of my mannerisms...

and the way, uh — the way every time
that we would have people over, uh,

I'd be insecure
and I'd get a little too drunk.

Or, uh, the way I tell the same stupid,
pseudo-intellectual story again and again.

You see, I've heard all those stories.

So, of course I'm sick of myself.

But...

being with you, uh,

has made me feel like I was somebody else.

And the only other way
to lose yourself like that is, um,

you know, dancing or alcohol or...

drugs and stuff like that.

Fucking?

- Fu — Fucking. Yeah. That's one way. Yeah.
- Yeah?

Do you know what I want?

What?

To be kissed.

Well, I can do that.

Wait. Wait.

I have to say something stupid.

All right.

- It's very stupid.
- Okay.

I don't think we should sleep together.

I mean, I want to, but since we're
never gonna see each other again,

it'll make me feel bad.

I'll wonder who else you're with.
I'll miss you.

I know. It's not very adult.

Maybe it's a female thing.
I can't help it.

Let's see each other again.

No, I don't want you to break our vow
just so you can get laid.

I don't wanna just get laid.
I want to, um —

I mean — I mean, I think we should.

I mean, we die in the morning, right?

- I think we should.
- No. Then it's like some male fantasy.

Meet a French girl on the train,
fuck her and never see her again.

This great story to tell.
I don't wanna be a great story.

I don't want this great evening
to just have been for that.

- Okay.
- Okay?

Okay. We don't have to have sex.
It's not a big deal.

Okay.

You don't wanna see me again?

No, of course I do. Listen.

If somebody gave me the choice right now

of to never see you again or to marry you,

I would marry you, all right?

And maybe that's
a lot of romantic bullshit,

but people have gotten married
for a lot less.

Actually —

I think I decided I wanted to sleep
with you when we got off the train.

Now that we've talked so much,
I don't know anymore.

- Oh, God.
- What?

Why do I make everything so complicated?

I don't know.

What do you think's the first thing
you're gonna do when you get back to Paris?

Call my parents. What about you?

I don't know. I'll probably go pick up my dog.
He's stayin' with a friend of mine.

- You have a dog? I love dogs.
- Yeah. You do?

- Yeah.
- Oh. Oh, shit.

- What?
- Oh!

I don't know. We're back in real time.

I know. I hate that.

What is that?

Sounds like a harpsichord.

- Oh, check that out.
- Somebody's playing.

Shh.

That's cool.

What?

You ever danced to a harpsichord?

Of course.

- Oh, wow.
- What?

Uh — I'm gonna take your picture...

so I never forget you

or, uh — or all this.

Okay. Me too.

"The years shall run like rabbits."

What?

Nothin'. Nothin'.

I have this, uh, recording of Dylan Thomas

reading a W.H. Auden poem.

He's got a great voice.

He just —

- It's like —
- Hmm? What?

"All the clocks
in the city began to whir and chime.

Oh, let not time deceive you.

You cannot conquer time.

In headaches and in worry,

vaguely life leaks away,

and time will have his fancy

tomorrow or today."

Somethin' like that.

It's good.

When you talked earlier
about after a few years

how a couple
would begin to hate each other

by anticipating their reactions
or getting tired of their mannerisms,

I think it would be the opposite for me.

I think I can really fall in love
when I know everything about someone —

The way he's gonna part his hair,
which shirt he's gonna wear that day,

knowing the exact story
he'd tell in a given situation.

I'm sure that's when I know
I'm really in love.

- Hey, guess what.
- What?

We didn't go to those guys' play.

- Play?
- Yeah.

- The cow?
- Yeah.

Oh, yeah, we didn't.
Oh, no. We missed it.

Okay. You know what bus
you're taking to the airport, right?

- Yeah, no problem.
- I should get on this one.

- Right here? You wanna get on that one?
- Yeah.

Um —

Okay.

- I guess this is it, no?
- Yeah.

Um, I really —

I-I —

I mean — You know.

Yeah, I know. Me too.

I —

My — Yeah.

Have a great life.
Have fun with everything you're gonna do.

All right, all right.
Good luck with school and all that.

Okay.

Well, I hate this.

- Me too. The train is about to leave.
- Yeah.

Listen. All this bullshit we were talkin' about —
about not seeing each other again?

- I don't wanna do that.
- I don't wanna do that either.

- You don't either?
- I was waiting for you to say —

- Why didn't you say something?
- I was afraid maybe you didn't want to see me.

Listen, what do you wanna do?

Maybe — Maybe we should meet here
in five years or something.

All right, all right.
Five years? Five years? That's a long time.

Yes, it's awful.
It's like a sociological experiment.

- How 'bout one year?
- One year. All right. All —

- One — How 'bout six months?
- Six months?

- Yeah.
- It's gonna be freezing.

- Yeah?
- Yeah!

Who cares? We come here,
we go somewhere else.

Okay.

Uh, six months from now or last night?

- Um — Last night. Six months from last night —
- Okay.

which was, uh, June 16.

So, uh, track nine, six months
from now at 6:00 at night.

- De — December.
- December, yeah.

It's a train ride for you. I gotta fly
all the way over here and shit like that.

But I'm gonna be here.

- Okay, me too.
- All right.

- And we're not gonna call, write or —
- Nah, it's depressing.

- Yeah. Okay.
- All right.

All right. Your train's gonna leave.
Say good-bye.

Bye.

Good-bye.

Au revoir.

Later.

♪ Hold me like a mother would ♪

♪ Like I've always known
somebody should, yeah ♪

♪ Although tomorrow ♪

♪ It don't look that good ♪

♪ Well, it just goes to show ♪

♪ Though people say
we're an unlikely couple ♪

♪ I'm seein' double ♪

♪ Of you ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ This is life ♪

♪ And everything's all right ♪

♪ Livin', livin', livin', livin',
livin', livin', livin' ♪

♪ Livin' life ♪

♪ Ah, hope for the hopeless
I'm learnin' to cope ♪

♪ With the emotionless mediocracy ♪

♪ Uh, ho ♪

♪ Day to day livin' ♪

♪ How can I help but be restless ♪

♪ When everything seems so tasteless? ♪

♪ And all of the colors seem to have ♪

♪ Faded away ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ This is life ♪

♪ And everything's all right ♪

♪ Livin', livin', livin',
livin', livin', livin', livin' ♪

♪ Livin' life ♪

♪ Hold me like a mother would ♪

♪ Like I've always known
somebody should, yeah ♪

♪ Although tomorrow ♪

♪ It don't look that good ♪

♪ Well, it just goes to show
though people say we're an unlikely couple ♪

♪ Doris Day ♪

♪ And Mott the Hoople ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ This is life ♪

♪ And everything's all right ♪

♪ Livin', livin', livin', livin',
livin', livin', livin' ♪

♪ Livin' life ♪

♪ Life ♪♪

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