“He’s a pagan! I’m an artist! We’re naturally sympathetic!”

“He’s good at this stuff.”“What stuff?”“Relationship stuff. He’s a natural. It’s weird, we’re new and we’re old. I can’t get my head around it.”“He’s shit at relationship stuff. He’s only good at it because it’s you.”“Sorry?”“You’re shit at it too, but only because it was never him.”

“Like a stage magician, the con artist misdirects suspicion. While everyone’s watching for him to pull a rabbit out of a hat, he’s actually sawing a girl in half. You think he’s doing one trick when he’s actually doing another. You think that I’m dying, but I’m laughing at you.”

“In art vanity is equally fatal to sympathetic feeling, whether on the part of the artist or the public.”

“Im here and he’s not. That I’m alive and he’s…”

“We’re distant cousins. He’s my first cousin, but he’s 5,000 miles away. And he doesn’t talk much.”