Guilt is a petty bourgeoisie cliché. When you fall in love with someone, do you fall in love with the artist's part or with the person itself. That girl doesn't have a single muscle on her body, neither her spine nor her brain are connected. Don't speak! Chichi's voice is so sexy. My father used to kill anyone who sang badly in opera. No one wants to destroy my work! Dedicated his life to art, and achieved a brilliant third act with increasingly louder gunshots. The dying sentence arranged for Sylvia to finally say that I was pregnant, which would have been a good ending. It would be great if the Mafia were all such perfectionistic geniuses. Neither the mediocrity nor the wise can understand your script, so you are a genius. No great artist can be recognized in his lifetime, take Van Gogh and Edgar Allan Poe for example. I kidnapped this beautiful woman from her middle-class life ten years ago and her life was ruined by me. I think our woman's mistake is to fall in love with an artist. Let's say there is a building on fire. You can rush in at this time, but you can only choose one thing to do. Either save a copy of Shakespeare's complete works, or save a stranger. What would you do? I bring gifts to each of you. It's nothing, it's just soap and spice and maybe some anger. . . It's a Chihuahua that bites off people's throats when angry. . . just kidding hahahahahahaha. Don't worry, I'll breastfeed her myself. . . just kidding hahahahahahaha. . My podiatrist had a stroke and she fell on a stick and the stick hit my toe and my foot needed a bandage. Okay, it's Woody Allen. For me love is deep, and sex only takes a few inches. Quantity affects quality. Who said that? Karl Marx. Oh so now we're talking economics! Sex is the economy. Can't you see that I can't forget David, every time I orgasm I say david, david. I thought you were saying do it, do it. I can love a man who is not an artist, but not enough man artist. I end with this statement: Living in the attic, eating cheese and drinking wine, and discussing art in a café is over. I love you and I want to marry you and we go back to Pittsburgh and we have a few kids. I wasted too much time. But you are an artist. No, I am not. I'll tell you more about it on the train back. But two things are certain: The first is that I love you. The second is that I am not an artist. OK, I said it. Now I am much more relaxed. I am not an artist. Yes, you are not. chichi is.
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