Black Pond Page #2
- NOT RATED
- Year:
- 2011
- 83 min
- 147 Views
But I think it was Katie
who spotted him, really.
She likes to look
after things.
Yes.
She used to bring back
the strangest boys.
Absolutely,
all lame ducks and--
What was that bloke who was
allergic to everything,
wasn't he--
He couldn't wear wool.
Oh, Toby.
the window for a start,
but Katie's
not as bright as Jess.
probably grow up to be a nurse.
Because she's not bright ?
Well, and because she used to
play at being a nurse
quite a lot.
on being the patient.
Yes.
She's the creative one,
if you like.
She's a very
good musician.
But she's very fragile.
Katie's very calm
in comparison.
No, not calm, but...
Jess, even when she was very
tiny, she used to cry
for no reason.
Just one minute she'd be happy
in the pram,
next minute she'd be crying,
so it was quite clear even then,
wasn't it ?
Well, that was
different, Tom.
That was just her
being a baby.
Was it ?
Oh.
You must be very proud.
( both )
Boy
Boy
Boy
Boy
( Blake )
Why did you
call him "Boy" ?
That was just because when I
first brought him home, I said,
"Here, boy," and he responded
straight away,
just came straight over.
Here, Boy,
here, Bo--
He's a bit deaf now but--
I did tell him it was weird.
I wanted to
call him Clare.
After John Clare,
you know.
The poet.
Ended up in an asylum.
Oh.
Oh, I'd love to read
some of his stuff.
He was a very beautiful man,
he was a genius,
but very lonely.
Well, there is something
of that in all of us.
Scornful and jealous
and frightened of everyone,
dire and desperate need of them,
of people.
We hate them
but we require them.
We love them,
but we wonder why
they do not always love us
back in equal measure.
We are mathematicians
of devotion.
Misers of love.
And we always know when
we have been shortchanged.
Always.
Ooh.
Very deep.
Yes, very deep indeed.
I always forget that Sophie was
a poet when I first met her.
Which implies I'm not now.
Oh, are you ?
No.
The truth is
I never was a poet,
it was just a distraction from
the fact that I wasn't anything.
It was just a disguise.
Actually, I tell you what.
I can go and fish them out
if you like.
Oh no, Tom, don't.
Only be a minute.
Please don't.
Tom !
You're embarrassing
me, Tom.
Where are you going ?
To put the kettle back on.
( Sophie )
"I live here among the
ignorant like a lost man,
in fact like one whom the rest
seems careless of having
anything to do with,
and I find more pleasure in
walking in the fields
than in musing among
my silent neighbors,
who are insensible
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