Perfect Sense

& Jenny: What do you feel like doing?
    Susan: Throwing stones.

& Boss: Have you been sick?
    Susan: Not sick. Just not happy.
    Boss: Well, it’s the same thing.

& James: One day... One day, son, you’ll be in love. And you’ll be miserable.

& Michael: I’m Michael. I work at the restaurant, there.
    Susan: All right, sailor.
    Michael: I am chef.
    Susan: Good for you.

& Susan: ’First overwhelmed with grief. And then no sense of smell. That’s a disease. They called it “Severe Olfactory syndrome”. SOS.’

& Michael: They say it is not contagious. But who would believe that?

& Michael: What do you do... when you’re not eating?
    Susan: Death and misery.
    Michael: What?
    Susan: I am an epidemiologist.

& Susan: ’The greater loss are all the memories that are no longer triggered. Smell and memory were connected to the brain. Cinnamon might have reminded you of your grandmother’s apron. The scent of cut hay could awoke a child who had a fear of cows. Diesel oil might bring back memories of your first ferry crossing. Without smell an ocean of past images disappears.’

& Susan: ’First, the terror. ... And then the moment of hunger. ... This is how the sense of taste disappears from our world. They don’t even have the time to give the disease a name.’

& Michael: Do you think we will lose and the other senses too?

& Michael: So, the other ones will be all right, then?
    Susan: They might.
    Michael: We’ll just have to wait and see.
    Susan: That’s right, sailor.
    Michael: And what happens if you’re wrong?
    Susan: Then we are fucked.

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& Susan: Let’s play a game, sailor.
    Michael: What game?
    Susan: It’s called “Make me special.”
    Michael: What are the rules?
    Susan: Only one. Just tell me something.
    Michael: Something?
    Susan: Something other people don’t know about you. Something secret.

& Michael: We can play “Make me special” games. We can play lovers, we could fuck. But you’re just like all the others! Don’t think that you matter, because you don’t. You’re nothing! You’re just passing time. It is not difficult to understand. It’s just fucking... and eating. And fat and flour. You go out there, you lie down on your back, and spread your legs. Or else take your profound conversation and your emotions and fuck off. You’re just a pair of ears and a mouth. An ass and a cunt. And If I may surprise you to know that everyone else has that, too. A pair of ears and an ass hole. Fat and fucking flour. Nothing special. Fat and flour! Fat and fucking flour!

& Susan: ’People prepared for the worse. But hoped for the best. They concentrated to the things that were important to them. All the things beyond fat and flour.’

& Susan: ’Once we thought of the Ice age as something that cracked up, glaciers slowly spreading, temperatures gradually dropping. But recently a number of intact mammoths have been discovered full stomachs full of undigested grass. The cold must have hit them like a blow from a cloud. That’s how the darkness descends upon the world.’

& Susan: ’That’s how the darkness descends upon the world. But first, the shiny moments. A shared flinching of the brain’s temporal lobe. A profound appreciation of what it means to be alive. But most of all, a shared urge to reach out to one another. To offer warmth. Understanding. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Love... It’s dark now.’

& Susan: ’... That’s how life goes on. Like that.’

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+ quotes on the Imdb.

__ Scary. Extremely scary. Apocalypse as it should be.