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19.35 horas. A hora certa para que a luz deixe entrar o brilho de um olhar há muito perdido no cinzento da mágoa e que agora se mostra de novo. A hora certa para tirar do baú o inevitável e deixar que os caminhos regressem a correr livres no leito de um destino que chegou a estar preso por amarras ao porto dos desgostos. 19.35 horas. O momento em que o relógio avança para os minutos perdidos no tempo e recupera a chave de um quarto atirada ao mar e que o mar devolveu ao sol que agora a entrega nos olhos que voltam a cruzar os olhos (Oldmirror)

Some people hate them, you know. Lovers. Nothing drives them madder than to see two people kissing. Love's an affront. You ever thought about that? Love's an emotion so charged and pure that it can attract a pure and charged hatred. That's why I don't think lovers should love in public. Some people have murder in their eyes when they see lovers, but somewhere out there is a person so disappointed with their life, so full of self-contempt, they're carrying murder in their pocket. A gun to blow away lips that were blowing kisses. (Imitates a gun) Pyeach! Pyeach! 'Put that tongue back in your mouth, lover!' Pyeach! Pyeach! 'Put them arms down by your sides, lover!' Pyeach! Pyeach! 'Wipe that shine from your eyes, lover! Who gave you the right to be happy when I'm not?' Pyeach! Pyeach! So drink up, lovers. Here you can hold hands, gaze at each other, touch and blow kisses. In my restaurant you're safe. Drink! - Arnold Wesker