THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT

The night, within the humid walls of clouds, protects us like a church.  A desecrated, sacrilegious church full of sensual delight, vulgar and parched anxieties, and the pagan acts of the underworld, hidden, anonymous corruptions, ill-spent existences, poetic in their incurable misery, of egotistical hopes interrupted by nocturnal temptations, the humility of prostitution, the exhaustion of those who have spent the day working for a thousand lire and who, in the deep night, feel like they are reawakening.

Pasolini/Stories