In Bergman’s German Expressionism/film noir/classic horror pic, The Hour of the Wolf, Heerbrand (?) explains ‘One returns to the scene of the crime, so to speak, and commits new crimes.  I’m a psychiatric curator.  I finger people’s souls and turn them inside out.’  Other notes I took when watching:

Pamina, an incantation, Pa-mi-na, a sorceror’s formula…

…and I answered as many strokes as possible…

Now you are yourself and yet not yourself – the ideal state for a meeting between two lovers. (bats fly through hallway)

You see what you want to see.  The mirror has been shattered.  But what do the splinters reflect?  Tell me that.
(Like in The Snow Queen  n Yet Another Example of the Porousness of Certain Borders XXIV n my Moonlighting short story n on n on n on…)

Soon youth…or never (immortality)…

It’s not dark anymore.  You can find your way.

You came…you stay…you go…You have complete freedom (with the ghosts)…

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