Little Ashes

Salvador Dal?:
From this point on, my real life begins.

Federico Garc?a Lorca:
Your real life? And what about this life? You can't just abandon everything!

Salvador Dal?:
Abandon what? Sitting in an art room all day, going out of my mind with boredom? Drinking myself into a stupor every night? I'm so sick of it!

Federico Garc?a Lorca:
How can you say that? Your painting's never been better. This isn't you, Salvador. What's happened to you?

Salvador Dal?:
Federico, why can't you just be happy for me?

Salvador Dal?:
If I'm going to be anything more than average, if anyone's going to remember me, then I need to go further in everything: in art, in life, in everything they think is real: morality, immorality, good, bad, I, we, have to smash that to pieces, we have to go beyond that, we have to be brave. no limit.

[first lines]

Federico Garc?a Lorca:
[whispering voiceover] Dry land, quiet land of immense night. Wind in the olive grove. Wind in the sierra.

[overlapping dialogue]

[last lines]

Federico Garc?a Lorca:
[whispering voiceover] Dry land, quiet land of immense night. Wind in the olive grove. Wind in the sierra.

[overlapping dialogue]

Profesor de Arte:
You have 20 minutes to deliver an oral critique of Raphael. You may begin... Mr. Dal??

Salvador Dal?:
Gentlemen... I returned from Paris with a conclusion that the entire amount of real, artistic knowledge contained within this panel of professors is not equal to one half of this. This, my fingernail. Not one half, gentlemen. And I've been insulting myself by letting your shruddy practices, your pathetic, outdated theories and questionable characters sh*t on my genius. And I hope with all my heart that you'll realize I'm right and give up this foolishness and go back to the pigsties and the haystacks, where you might be of some real use.

Salvador Dal?:
I've recently escaped from prison.

Salvador Dal?:
31 days of incarceration.

Magdalena:
If we had a choice in these things, which we don't. Don't we?

Magdalena:
Look. I am not saying it's going to be easy. But I don't think you can carry on like this. I mean, you can. Of course, you can. But it has a price. I think sometimes we just have to risk it. Live the way we feel. And you know it, it might not turn out well. Sometimes it doesn't turn out well at all. But we have to try. We have to keep on trying. Otherwise, we just become puppets. All painted smiles outside, while inside nothing but sawdust.