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Trailer of the Annie Leibovitz documental "Life through a lens"
"Don't you get it? She's the house! She's the plain white shutters, the sparkling glass windows, and the perfect white picket fence. She's the ordinary stuff. But you...you're the red door. And when people come by, yeah, sure they see the house. But for some reason, they always end up looking at the door. It's always in the corner of their eye. You can't ignore a red door. And the house is nice, hell,the house is perfect. But then there's that door. It's almost painful to look at. You're the door."
“One might fancy that day, the London day, was just beginning. Like a woman who had slipped off her print dress and white apron to array herself in blue and pearls, the day changed, put off stuff, took gauze, changed to evening, and with the same sigh of exhilaration that a woman breathes, tumbling petticoats on the floor, it too shed dust, heat, colour; the traffic thinned; motor cars, tinkling, darting, succeeded the lumber of vans; and here and there among the thick foliage of the squares an intense light hung. I resign, the evening seemed to say, as it paled and faded above the battlements and prominences, moulded, pointed, of hotel, flat, and block of shops, I fade, she was beginning. I disappear, but London would have none of it, and rushed her bayonets into the sky, pinioned her, constrained her to partnership in her revelry.”
Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway