and the tale of love and loss.
Tragedy and delight—hand in hand.
I am the proverbial starving.
No thank-yous, no yum-yums, not a peep. Man is silent as a grave.
But if farts were flattery, he’d be Shakespeare.
You’d be grateful, because you are an educated woman. But my Brewster, all he had gone for him was animal magnetism back in the day.
I would say. Take better care of your teeth and fuck-a-lot more.
Oh, nono. A man washes his hands before or after tending to his needs. That tells a lot about that man. If he does it both times, points to a weakness in character.
It was very pleasant chatting with you both.
Short people are mean. I’ve never met a short man that stays nice all the way through. No sir, mean little backstabbers, all of ’em. Maybe it’s the air down there, not enough oxygen or something.
Right now? Any chance we might conclude our dinner?
Oh heavens to Betsy. We’re in a pickle. We’re in such a pickle.
to render this-this lab immaculate and so on and so forth.
Because I saw a mermaid once in a carnival tent. And it was a monkey sewn to the tail of a fish. Looked real to me.
Corn Flakes were invented to prevent masturbation. It didn’t work.
Mr. “I pee with my hands on my hips” wants to see us both.
I move my mouth, like him. I make no sound, like him. What does that make me? All that I am, all that I’ve ever been, brought me here to him.
You see, you’re saying “him”. It’s a “him” now.
When he looks at me, the way he looks at me. He does not know what I lack. Or how I am incomplete. He sees me for what I am, as I am. He’ s happy to see me, every time, every day. And now I can either save him or let him die.
You see? That’s part of being on the job here. It’s like being a bartender. You serve the people pie, you listen to their problems. Get to know them.
I have no one. And you are the only person that I can talk to. Whatever this thing is you need it. You just tell me what to do.
I don’t want an intricate, beautiful thing destroyed.
Lord hell me if they ask me if I do. I am not a good liar. Takes a lot of lies to keep a marriage going.
In my opinion, we are looking at a highly trained group, sir. I’m thinking, conceivably, sir. Special Forces and so on and so forth. —Red Army Special forces? —Conceivably. A highly-trained, well-financed, elite group. Highly efficient, ruthless, clockwork precision. Infiltration took less than five minutes. I can sure the estimate of this Strict Force of at least 10 minutes.
Have you always been alone? Did you ever have someone? Do you know what happened to you? Do you? Cause I don’t. I don’t know what happen to me. I look in the mirror, the only thing that I recognize are these eyes. In this old man’s face. And sometimes I think I was their both too early or too late for my life. Maybe we’re both just relics.
What am I doing? Interviewing the fucking help, the shit cleaners, the piss wipers.
Never trust a man. Even when he looks flat down there.
If I told you about it. That they lived happily ever after? I believe it is. That they were in love. That they remained in love. I’m sure that’s true. But when I think of her, Elisa…The only thing that comes to mind is a poem. Whispered by someone in love, hundreds of years ago.
“Unable to perceive the shape of you. I find you all around me. Your presence fills my eyes with your love. It humbles my heart. For you are everywhere.