“If you take away my office, how will I get no work done?”

“Mind, I congratulate you. You jumped me to sex, translated it to aesthetics, and ended with sour grapes. How dishonest can I be? And all because I don't want to go to work. I'll work my head off to avoid work. Come, mind. This time you don't get away with it - back to the desk.”

“The brain is a wonderful organ; it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.”

“Can’t... can’t just go away. Can’t just... You can’t get on that train and charge out of my life. It’s not fair. I can’t work, dammit! I... I made a bad trade. I made a bad trade. How dare you? How dare you walk into my flat and... and then just... just walk out again? How can you even—”

“I am a writer.I have been a writer my whole life. Words are the only things I have ever believed in. These words… They are a part of me. And they always will be. You can take away everything I own. You can take away my money, my friends and family and strangers I have met once. You can take away my love, my hate, my happiness and sorrow. You can take away my memories, my past and present and future. You can take away my life. You can take away everything.But you can never take away these words. You can never take away the fact that I am a writer.”

“What is it?”“Well, how it works is you take the box out of my hand and open it,” I say with a grin.”