The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) dir. Wes Anderson
now and then
A number of years ago, while suffering from a mild case of ‘Scribe’s Fever’ (a form of neurasthenia common among the intelligentsia of that time), I had decided to spend the month of August in the spa town of Nebelsbad below the Alpine Sudetenwaltz — and had taken up rooms in the Grand Budapest — a picturesque, elaborate, and once widely celebrated established. I expect some of you will know it. It was off-season and, by that time, decidedly out-of-fashion; and it had already begun its descent into shabbiness and eventual demolition.
Woken up like an animal
Teeth ready for sinking
My mind’s lost in bleak visions
I’ve tried to escape but keep sinking
This isn’t the age of spies. This is not even the age of heroes. This is the age of miracles… and there’s nothing more horrifying than a miracle.