“... Well, some day i'm going to get in with that wild artistic group. It's the only thing that makes this town different.""The 'wild artistic group,' as you put it, has an average age of fifty-seven, and most of us have heart disease and bladder trouble...”

“I do believe most curators - maybe I'm only speaking for myself here - want to be artists on some level. Curators must have an innate interest in what an artist makes. And they certainly have their opinions and criticisms, and the always ask, "How would I have made this, or how would another artist make this?”

“I do believe most curators - maybe I'm only speaking for myself here - want to be artists on some level. Curators must have an innate interest in what an artist makes. And they certainly have their opinions and criticisms, and the always ask, "How would I have made this, or how would another artist make this?”

“At the age of four, you were an artist. And at seven, you were a poet.”

“Maybe you aren't ready yet. I get it. This is a new situation, you want time to explore it, play with a block or two, eat some Play-Doh. I get it. Go wild. But one day, I'm going to make you mine.”

“So, you wouldn't marry me.""Ridiculous question. I'm eighteen!""Oh, it's an age thing?" He frowned. "You don't mean wild oats, do you? We're not going to have some stupid break so you can experience other---"Zuzana put a hand over his mouth. "Gross. Don't even say it.”