The Twits (1980)

Roald Dahl

If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until it gets so ugly you can hardly bear to look at it. A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.

'Of course I do,' said the Roly-Poly Bird. 'It's no good going to a country and not knowing the language.'

Kubo and the Two Strings (2016)

“If you must blink, do it now. Pay careful attention to everything you see and hear, no matter how unusual it may seem. And please be warned, if you fidget, if you look away, if you forget any part of what I tell you, even for an instant, then our hero will surely perish.”

”His name is Kubo. His grandfather stole something from him. And that really is the least of it.”

”For every horrible thing down here, there’s something far more beautiful. My mother saw it. So did my father. I see it. Even with just one eye.”

”I know why you want my eye. Because without it, I can’t look into the eyes of another and see their soul.”

”It’s in my memories. The most powerful kind of magic there is. It makes us stronger than you’ll ever be. These are the memories of those we have loved and lost. And if we hold their stories deep in our hearts, then you will never take them away from us. And that really is the least of it.”

Places to Non-Places (1995)

Marc Augé
Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity 

Modernity in art preserves all the temporalities of place, the ones that are located in space and in words.

If a place can be defined as relational, historical and concerned with identity, then a space which cannot be defined as relational, or historical, or concerned with identity will be a non-place.

Place and non-place are rather like opposed polarities: the first is never completely erased, the second never totally completed; they are like palimpsests on which the scrambled game of identity and relations is ceaselessly rewritten.

To frequent space, Michel de Certeau writes, is ‘to repeat the gleeful and silent experience of infancy: to be other, and go over to the other, in a place’.