“Elliot I Want To — I Want To, But I Can’t,” Benson Sighs.

elliot + holding olivia back 

Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine in Suspicion 1941

“After dinner she wanted me to take her to the bathroom. I led her upstairs and opened the door for her. Suddenly she calmly laid her hand on my chest and looked at me very earnest and calm. I needed a few confused seconds. Then, also very calmly, I took her hand off my chest and left her alone in my bathroom.The fact that we both stayed so calm made the biggest impression on me. It turned this civilized request into something like a mutual declaration of friendship, love and trust. I must have heard rumors about the unrestricted freedom of her lifestyle. Now I knew that she really was as royal as she looked.” Elisabeth Bergner in her autobiography “Bewundert viel und viel gescholten”. x

Joyce & Hopper + Height Difference

Joan Fontaine in Letter from an Unknown Woman (Max Ophüls, 1948)

Greta Garbo with  Robert Taylor  in  film “Camille”, 1936

Greta Garbo, March  1933

good old-fashioned lvr boy | buster keaton

Garbo being her completely enchanting self

“last night i dreamt i went to manderley again. it seemed to me i stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter, for the way was barred to me. then, like all dreamers, i was possessed of a sudden with supernatural powers and passed like a spirit through the barrier before me. the drive wound away in front of me, twisting and turning as it had always done. but as i advanced, i was aware that a change had come upon it. nature had come into her own again, and little by little had encroached upon the drive with long, tenacious fingers. on and on wound the poor thread that had once been our drive, and finally there was manderley. manderley - secretive and silent. time could not mar the perfect symmetry of those walls. moonlight can play odd tricks upon the fancy, and suddenly it seemed to me that light came from the windows. and then a cloud came upon the moon and hovered an instant like a dark hand before a face. the illusion went with it. i looked upon a desolate shell with no whisper of the past about its staring walls. we can never go back to manderley again. that much is certain. but sometimes, in my dreams i do go back to the strange days of my life, which began for me in the south of france.” | rebecca (1940)