the presenters
to take me on.
But disaster struck when the accompanist,
who was too old for a major tour,
started saying nonsense and
fantasizing his own death.
If I have a heart attack when the
Divine One hits a high note
you must push me off the chair and
continue as though nothing happened.
She would not even think
of pausing.
While the maestro was dreaming of
his magnificent death mid-concert,
the Divine One in turn feared
that the maestro will die
if he is not allowed to go
on tour with her.
But they let him go and
my job was gone, too.
How well you explain everything,
just like a book.
How old is she?
What do you care?
You're stepping on
frozen spit again.
I'm only looking at the tree tops.
If you have nowhere to sleep
you can come with me.
But I warn you, my kittens
get all the comforts.
They have the sofa, the bed,
the commode, etc.
Chopin... is not sentimental.
He is a man of strong emotions,
but he is not sentimental.
Emotions and sensitivity
are unrelated.
An abyss lies between them.
This composition speaks of
concealed pain.
So you didn't finish your studies?
It's too late for me
to start a third life.
How so?
I said it's too late.
For two reasons.
On the one hand society
condemns late-starters,
casts them out.
- On the other...
- Too late? Too old?
Where do you get money?
You already asked me.
Too old.
Don't get me wrong.
I'm not judging you.
Because I knew exactly who you were
when I made you invite me over,
and there is only one bed here,
as it turned out.
But you must not suspect me,
because I do not judge you at all.
I understood who you were
right away.
You are the Divine One who sings.
I am sure of it.
When she sings you believe
it is you singing.
You want to survive, I know.
Even when are silent,
or thinking or telling me,
"I'm just a poor musician" -
at the same time
you burn everything around you
and the world becomes noting to you.
I do not judge you, I don't
tell you that you are mad.
I'm saying that I understand you,
believe you...
Because I've known you
for a long time.
But you do live poorly here!
Is it better to be rich?
You're confusing me.
You're provoking me.
I don't think so. Although there's
a bit of that too...
...A desire to provoke.
You know, I've noticed that
at a certain age
some children want
to set fire to something.
They set fire to everything.
It's a disease.
- It's called pyromania.
- Yes, perhaps..
That's not what I'm talking about.
The important thing is that
I had an idea.
I need you. And you need me.
You won't refuse me.
The two of us will be rich.
Maybe very soon.
Tomorrow we will go to the theater
and bring a rich bouquet.
We will spend all of our money.
You will have lots of flowers,
and I will wear a beautiful dress.
A kind of dress I never dreamt of.
I'm serious.
Chopin is not sentimental.
He is a man of strong emotions,
but he is not sentimental.
The performer must be calm,
serene, even stern.
Emotions and sensitivity
are unrelated.
Dumbass!
It is easy enough to play.
One must clench and unclench
one's ass.
Clench ass... Unclench...
That's all it is.
I despise all arguments.
All systems can go to hell.
I'm serious.
If I decided to help you,
then I decided to help you.
No, no, meaning yes.
You've read my mind.
There are moments in which
men love crime.
You've read my... everyone
and at all times loves it.
Everyone will tell you that it is evil,
but inside they love it.
You can trust me.
I won't go on about myself.
I was in a camp, came back.
Don't have anything or anybody.
I had a friend back there. She kept
a horrific poison for revenge.
One time during a break
in the woods she told me:
I don't have a penny
to my name,
but there are worse things
in this world.
I don't want to leave prison with a heart
burdened by a hatred of the world.
The vengeance I sensed in
my heart has dissipated,
and I only feel a sense
of resignation.