Lindsay Anderson Quotes

I cough, swirling, trying to gain my bearings. It is all black. There are footfalls around me, random screams followed by a blast of a gun. Falling to both knees, I crawl through the soft powder that had moments before been living, my hand outstretched in search of a wall so that I might ground myself. There is a swish overhead, and a screeching sound like a door needing oil. A tusk rolls to me, and I realize it had been thrown my way.

Art is an experience, not the formulation of a problem.

Possibly from the outside this looks determinedly individual. Nobody realises what a mess of loneliness and inadequacy I am inside.

I can feel my face growing warm, and I hope I'm not flushing in my terror. The feeling of helplessness and fear hits me hard, and once my mind validates the emotion, the physical fear of being maimed and eaten hits my skin as goose bumps in the heat.

Media was a battle ground. So was the internet. People began walking openly with their weapons, whether it was a gun or a camera. Drones were always skimming overhead, filming the violence of the second civil war of the United States.