Laurence Olivier și Vivien Leigh:
But one day early in spring I heard a maid complaining. I think we must just have finished lunch; I know we were sitting at the table in the small winter-garden of a porch at Durham Cottage and that it was daylight. It came like a bolt from the blue, like a drop of water, I almost thought my ears had deceived me: “I don’t love you anymore.”
I must have looked as stricken as I felt, for she went on, “There’s no one else or anything like that, I mean I still love you but in a different way, sort of, well, like a brother.”; she actually used those words. I felt as if I had been told that I had been condemned to death… Some while later a close friend said that I should have kicked her out, or upped and outed myself; that I should never have endured in silence such humiliation apparently for the sake of appearances. The fact was I couldn’t move; it would be some time before I could entirely take in, grasp it, or wholly believe it. My recent knighthood, bestowed just before I set out for Australia, was sacred to me too; I just could not bring myself to offer people such crude disillusionment. I could only keep it bottled up in myself and, as Vivien had suggested, carry on as if nothing had happened. –Laurence Olivier
Chestia asta m-a terminat, pur și simplu. Nu știu de ce; dar, bănuiesc.