“Oh, I know. They’re dwarfs pretending to be elves.No, they’re not dwarfs either.Okay, okay, they’re “little people,” I’m sorry! Can’t believe I have to be politically correct when you’re the only one who can hear me.”

“Things get really dangerous when we start saying I’m the good one and you’re the bad one. What happens in our world is that everyone is the good fighting the good because one side thinks they’re the good and the other side’s sure they’re the good and they’re both calling the other the evil. As far as I’m concerned, the only evil is what happens when that happens.”

“No one knows me here. No one knows that they’re supposed to feel sorry forme.”

“I keep thinking they’re gonna call me. I keep thinking they’re gonna crunch the numbers and think, oh, we can make money with this! And they don’t.”

“They’re like little boys, men. Sometimes of course they’re rather naughty and you have to pretend to be angry with them. They attach so much importance to such entirely unimportant things that it’s really touching. And they’re so helpless. Have you never nursed a man when he’s ill? It wrings your heart. It’s just like a dog or a horse. They haven’t got the sense to come in out of the rain, poor darlings. They have all the charming qualities that accompany general incompetence. They’re sweet and good and silly, and tiresome and selfish. You can’t help liking them, they’re so ingenuous, and so simple. They have no complexity or finesse. I think they’re sweet, but it’s absurd to take them seriously.”

“Oh, I don’t mean you’re handsome, not the way people think of handsome. Your face seems kind. But your eyes - they’re beautiful. They’re wild, crazy, like some animal peering out of a forest on fire.”