“Yes. But sad's alright. Sad's just apart of everything”
“Yes, I am sad, sad as a circus-lioness, sad as an eagle without wings, sad as a violin with only one string and that one broken, sad as a woman who is growing old. Sad, sad, sad...”
“But they never last, the golden days. And it can be sad, the sun in the afternoon, can't it? Yes, it can be sad, the afternoon sun, sad and frightening.”
“Some people are just sad, all of the time. Too sad to deal with - everything. Life, I guess. I don't know. There doesn't always have to be a reason.”
“They're beautiful. But sad.'Everything's sad if you make it so, I said.”
“I think. Some people are just sad, all of the time. Too sad to deal with—everything. Life, I guess. I don’t know. There doesn’t always have to be a reason.”