Essa cruz que trazes ao peito

Do filme "Masque of the Red Death" de 1964:

Prince Prospero:
That cross you wear around your neck; is it only a decoration, or are you a true Christian believer?
Francesca :
Yes, I believe - truly

Prince Prospero:
Then I want you to remove it at once!
- and never to wear it within this castle again!
Do you know how a falcon is trained my dear?
Her eyes are sown shut.
Blinded temporarily she suffers the whims of her God patiently, until her will is submerged and she learns to serve - as your God taught and blinded you with crosses.

Francesca:
You had me take off my cross because it offended....

Prince Prospero:
It offended no one.
No - it simply appears to me to be discourteous to... to wear the symbol of a deity long dead.
My ancestors tried to find it. And to open the door that seperates us from our Creator.

Francesca:
But you need no doors to find God.
If you believe....

Prince Prospero:
Believe?! If you believe you are gullible.
Can you look around this world and believe in the goodness of a god who rules it?
Famine, Pestilence, War, Disease and Death!
They rule this world.

Francesca:
There is also love and life and hope.

Prince Prospero:
Very little hope I assure you. No. If a god of love and life ever did exist... he is long since dead. Someone... something rules in his place.

And When He Falleth / Velvet Drakness They Fear / Theatre of Tragedy / 1996

No auto-rádio - ...A distance there is...

Esta semana roda o primeiro álbum de Theatre of Tragedy.

Um amigo desaparecido em combate, tinha uma predileção pelas faixas 5 de cada álbum. Se calhar tinha razão, e existe um qualquer misticismo associado a essas faixas. Não sei. Sei é que neste álbum a faixa cinco se destaca das demais:

Come in out of the rain thou sayest - but thou ne'er step'st aside;
And I am trapp'd -
A distance there is...
None, save me and the bodkin - pitter-patter on the roof:
Behold! - 'tis not the rain; thence me it has to be -
I will not drink thy vintage wine, my dear;
Thou hast heed'd that I am of innocence, yet thou let'st thy lass into peril
-
Thou let'st me be parched;
My heart is of frailty, my pale skin is hued damask.
When thou thy tears hast hidden, "Come back!", thou sayest -
There I soon am to be - but how am I to run when my bones, my heart!
Thou hast me bereaft! -
But run thou sayest; I run -
And there and then I behold that a time will come when I again dead will be.
Thou tell'st me to leave without delay -
I leave with my bodkin and my tears in my hands;
Lo! - the shadows, the sky - descending;
So by a dint of smite I gait ere I run and melt together with dusk.
In my mind in which is this event,
But it seems as if naught is to change anyway?!
After all these years thou left'st me down in the emotional depths -
The sombre soaked velvet-drape is hung upon me,
Turning my feelings away from our so ignorant world:
All the beatiful moments shared, deliberatlely push'd aside -
...a distance there is...

...A distance there is... / Theatre of Tragedy / 1995