“Mama. I chose you.”
“You chose me, I chose you. End of story.”
“I chose you, Clara, and you chose me. End of story.”
“You chose books, I chose looks . Now see the difference?”
“Chose? If you believe that I chose any part of the pitiful shadow of a life you see before you, you are very much mistaken. I chose glory and success. The box did not contain what was written on the lid.”
“Mama--Mama--I want so many things... I want so many things that they are driving me kind of crazy...”