" GREETINGS TO YOU, THE LUCKY FINDER OF THIS GOLDEN TICKET. I shake you warmly by the hand, for now I do invite you to come to my factory and be my guest for one whole day. I, Willy Wonka will conduct you around the factory myself, showing you everything there is to see. Afterwards, when it is time to leave, you will be escorted home by a procession of large trucks, each one filled with all the chocolate you could ever eat. And remember, one of you lucky five children will receive an extra prize beyond your wildest imagination. Now, here are your instructions; on the first of February, you must come to the factory gates. You are allowed to bring one member of your family to look after you.
Till then, Willy Wonka “
Oh I Wanna Go There !! :(
CHANYA.q | via Tumblr on We Heart It
Don’t need a reason to watch this movie again, do we?
Everything in this room is edible. Even I’m edible. But, that would be called cannibalism. It is looked down upon in most societies.
Willy Wonka (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory)
I sell dreams, small comforts, sweet harmless temptations to bring down a multitude of saints crashing among the hazels and nougatines
I hate all this talk about Love, as if it were something wonderful that was worth everything else in life put together. Every book you read and every song that you see in the shop-windows is all about Love. It’s as if the whole world were in a conspiracy to persuade themselves that there’s a wonderful something just round the corner which they can get if they try hard enough. And they hypnotise themselves into thinking of nothing else and miss all the splendid things of life.
Dimly, for he was not accustomed to thinking along these lines, he perceived the numbing truth that we human beings are merely as many pieces in a jig-saw puzzle and that our every movement affects the fortunes of some other piece. Just so, faintly at first and taking shape by degrees, must the germ of civic spirit have come to Prehistoric Man. We are all individualists till we wake up.
Mr. Pett, the human opossum, came to life. He had contrived to create about himself such a defensive atmosphere of non-existence that now that he re-entered the conversation it was as if a corpse had popped out of its tomb like a jack-in-the-box.
Mr. Pett, on his side, receiving her cold glance squarely between the eyes, felt as if he were being disembowelled by a clumsy amateur
Coincidences thrust upon coincidences with peculiar characters woven across a dizzyingly delicious plot.
Your escapist fantasy is served, Madam.