"One of the greatest films ever made by a director who, almost forty years after his death, is still an intimidating and disturbing figure in the history of cinema. Visconti’s films stand outside the borders of the medium, by their ambition, by their scope, uniting past and present, individuals and history, both deeply human and transcendent. The Leopard, his most translucent, towering achievement, embodies everything the best filmmaking can be, grand, profound, entertaining, physical and metaphysical, sharp as a blade and melodramatic. It stays with you, forever."

‘No man is an island.’ The tide that fills every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. And [Donne] goes on toward the end to say, ‘any man’s death diminishes me because I’m involved in mankind. Therefore, it’s not to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.’ Somehow we must come to see that in this pluralistic, interrelated society we are all tied together in a single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality.

"I read this recently — it’s a small and significant book. It’s the autobiographical account of a teenage boy who journeys through the Nazi death camps with his father, desperately clinging to life and each other when humanity has become perversely distorted. It’s almost beyond human and beyond language. When I read it, I wondered how someone would interpret this story if they dug it up in ancient ruins centuries from now. Could it be true? What are we capable of in terms of cruelty and survival?"

"I think I’ve seen it five times in the past two months. I can’t stop watching that picture. The way they edited that — the dramatic scenes have as much musicality as the dance numbers, but it’s completely naturalistic. A man facing his own death; he’s creating his own end. He’s riffing on Lenny Bruce, riffing on his own material, his need to connect, his love of women, and his own mortality and relationship to family. It’s a staggering film. It’s Bob Fosse’s “See ya, and goodnight.”"

"One of my all-time favorite films. I actually woohoo-ed out loud when I saw the announcement of a Criterion release of it! Hal Ashby was one of the greatest American filmmakers of the seventies, and his death was such a loss for the film community. It’s sad to think of what else he could’ve made. The use of Cat Stevens’s music in this film is a great example of a musician’s music forever being linked to a particular film and utilized so effectively."

"Kiarostami has spooky power. The wind, the dust, passersby, stray sounds, even your attention—they all slow down and fall into his rhythm. He seems able to control everything inside and outside the frame, and it’s all poetry. Taste of Cherry was my introduction to him. It’s a very sad and beautiful film about life via death. I’ll think about the coda for a long time. I’m also a big fan of The Wind Will Carry Us, Where Is the Friend’s Home?, and Close-up."

"I was obsessed with Dennis Cooper during my early 20s. Admittedly, I don’t connect to his writing so much anymore, but his fiction had such an impact on my early writing that I couldn’t leave this book out. His work generally explores sex, death, boredom, perversion, sex work, and usually follows a sexually fluid and/or confused male protagonist who’s tall and deathly thin—aka my exact “type”—so besides being a literary influence, Cooper’s books were also a form of porn for me, I suppose."

"For centuries, the making of textiles has traditionally fallen to women. And, the subsequent fabrics they create are often regarded as frivolous objects. But from birth to death, fabric is a constant in our lives, and has been for centuries. In The Golden Thread: How Fabric Changed History Kassia St. Clair deftly, and exhaustively tackles the 30,000 year history of fabric. This isn’t a book I devoured from start to finish, but I keep returning to whenever I start to take fibers for granted."