“This softening she sees in me isn't enough to make me affectionate, but it's just enough to render me inept. I can't give her what she wants — virtuousness — or what she needs — protection.”

“She told me once that when she was with me she felt like the beautiful woman she never thought she'd be. I can't imagine what could ever make her think she wasn't beautiful enough to anyone, least of all me. She's the beautiful one. The most beautiful one in the world to me.”

“Let me explain it to you then. I just had a beautiful girl trust me enough to touch her and see her in a way no one else ever has. I got to hold her and watch her and feel her as she came apart in my arms. It was like nothing else I'd ever experienced. She was breathtaking and she was responding to me. She wanted me. I was the one making her spiral out of control.”

“Well, what is that to me? I can't see her!" she cried.”

“It's like she looks at me and only sees what she wants to see. My father looks at me and sees only what he wants me to be.”

“Nobody listens anymore. I can't talk to the walls because they're yelling at me, I can't talk to my wife; she listens to the walls. I just want someone to hear what I have to say. And maybe if I talk long enough it'll make sense. And I want you to teach me to understand what I read.”