Sparkling Diamonds

These movies, Moulin Rouge, You've Got Mail, Finding Neverland, Big Fish, and Serendipity, are some of the most enchanting movies I have ever seen. When I read quotes from them, or see pictures, I get butterflies in my stomach and for some reason something inside me gets really excited. I dont know why - I cant explain it, I dont even know what may be the cause of such a love-sick reaction to mere movies except that I love movies and I love getting caught up in the reality of something that would rarely, if ever, happen in the world we live in. I like to get caught up in the hope that for only a few hours, I can escape whatever horrible things may be going on in the world or in my life and join Christian is his endeavor to win the heart of the lovely Satine, or join Mr. Barrie in Neverland for a portion of my day. I can only imagine that Heaven will have some similarities to movies, only better. Heaven will be a place that I will have that constant love-sick, butterfly-in-my-stomach, giddy feeling but I think it will be perfect. The difference though, between such movies and Heaven is that Heaven will be flawless, everlasting, and pure. Such qualities that are extremely hard, if not impossible, to find in movies anymore. And so:

Christian: [voiceover and typing] Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. And then, one not-so-very special day, I went to my typewriter, I sat down, and I wrote our story. A story about a time, a story about a place, a story about the people. But above all things, a story about love. A love that will live forever. The End.

Kathleen Kelly: Once I read a story about a butterfly in the subway, and today, I saw one. It got on at 42nd, and off at 59th, where, I assume it was going to Bloomingdales to buy a hat that will turn out to be a mistake - as almost all hats are.

Will Bloom: In telling the story of my father's life, it's impossible to separate fact from fiction, the man from the myth. The best I can do is to tell it the way he told me. It doesn't always make sense and most of it never happened... but that's what kind of story this is.

J.M. Barrie: Just a dog? Porthos dreams of being a bear, and you want to shatter those dreams by saying he's just a dog? What a horrible candle-snuffing word. That's like saying, He can't climb that mountain, he's just a man, or That's not a diamond, it's just a rock. Just.

Dean: Yet even in certain defeat, the courageous Trager secretly clung to the belief that life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. Uh-uh. But rather it's a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan.