Paraphrasing Wilde
Too Short For This Shit.
"To lose one good friend, Mr Masterson, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose a second looks like carelessness."
* * *
The Third Man (Graham Greene)
ANNA: About Harry.
MARTINS: You know?
ANNA: I've seen Major Calloway today. He's better dead. I knew he was mixed up, but not like that.
MARTINS: I knew him for twenty years, at least I thought I knew him. I suppose he was laughing at fools like us all the time.
ANNA: He liked to laugh.
MARTINS: Seventy pounds a tube. He wanted me to write for his great medical charity.
ANNA: I'll put these in water.
MARTINS: Perhaps I could have raised the price to eighty pounds for him.
ANNA: Oh, please, for heaven's sake, stop making him in your own image. Harry was real. He wasn't just your friend and my lover. He was Harry.
MARTINS: Well, don't preach wisdom to me. You talk about him as if he had occasional bad manners. I know, I'm just a hack writer who drinks too much and falls in love with girls. You...
ANNA: Me?
MARTINS: Don't be such a fool, of course.
ANNA: If you'd rung me up and asked me if you were fair or dark, or had a mustache, I wouldn't have known.
MARTINS: I'm leaving Vienna. I don't care whether Harry was murdered by Kurtz or Popescu or a third man. Whoever killed him, there was some sort of justice. Maybe I'd have killed him myself.
ANNA: A person doesn't change because you find out more.
"To lose one good friend, Mr Masterson, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose a second looks like carelessness."
* * *
The Third Man (Graham Greene)
ANNA: About Harry.
MARTINS: You know?
ANNA: I've seen Major Calloway today. He's better dead. I knew he was mixed up, but not like that.
MARTINS: I knew him for twenty years, at least I thought I knew him. I suppose he was laughing at fools like us all the time.
ANNA: He liked to laugh.
MARTINS: Seventy pounds a tube. He wanted me to write for his great medical charity.
ANNA: I'll put these in water.
MARTINS: Perhaps I could have raised the price to eighty pounds for him.
ANNA: Oh, please, for heaven's sake, stop making him in your own image. Harry was real. He wasn't just your friend and my lover. He was Harry.
MARTINS: Well, don't preach wisdom to me. You talk about him as if he had occasional bad manners. I know, I'm just a hack writer who drinks too much and falls in love with girls. You...
ANNA: Me?
MARTINS: Don't be such a fool, of course.
ANNA: If you'd rung me up and asked me if you were fair or dark, or had a mustache, I wouldn't have known.
MARTINS: I'm leaving Vienna. I don't care whether Harry was murdered by Kurtz or Popescu or a third man. Whoever killed him, there was some sort of justice. Maybe I'd have killed him myself.
ANNA: A person doesn't change because you find out more.