Kiss of the Spider Woman

Es que habría que saber aceptar las cosas como se dan, y apreciar lo bueno que te pase, aunque no dure. Porque nada es para siempre.

- Estoy muy cansado, Valentín. Estoy cansado de sufrir. Vos no sabés, me duelte todo por dentro. - ¿ Adónde te duele? - Adentro del pecho, y en la garganta - ¿ Porque será que la tristeza se siente siempre ahí?

- But you have to reason it out then and convince yourself. - Yes, but there are reasons of the heart that reason doesn't encompass.

- And what's so bad about being soft like a woman? Why is it men or whoever, some poor bastard, some queen, can't be sensitive too, if he's got a mind to? ... - But if men acted like women there wouldn't be anymore torturers.

—¿Y ella no tiene frío? —No, no se acuerda del frío, está como en otro mundo, ensimismada dibujando a la pantera. —Si está ensimismada no está en otro mundo. Ésa es una contradicción. —Sí, es cierto, ella está ensimismada, metida en el mundo que tiene adentro de ella misma, y que apenas si lo está empezando a descubrir.

--And the good thing about feeling happy, you know, Valentin? ...It's that you think it's forever, that one's never ever going to feel unhappy again.

—And what's so bad about being soft like a woman? Why is it men or whoever, some poor bastard, some queen, can't be sensitive, too, if he's got a mind to? —I don't know, but sometimes that kind of behavior can get in a man's way. —When? When it comes to torturing?” —No, when it comes to being finished with the torturers.” —But if men acted like women there wouldn't be anymore torturers.

Dearest . . . I am writing you once more now, night . . . brings a silence that helps me talk to you, and I wonder . . . could you be remembering too, sad dreams . . . of this strange love affair. My dear . . . although life may never let us meet again, and we—because of fate—must always live apart . . . I swear, this heart of mine will be always yours . . . my thoughts, my whole life, forever yours . . . just as this pain . . . belongs . . . to you . . .