S: She just doesn't love me. And me having this whole lot of love for her doesn't help. I've been thinking about the great writers, lately. How many of them were really in love? In love for decades?
E: None of them.
S: How many of them were just in love with some girl they were fucking at the time and didn't even love them back, in this lonely torturous existence? An empty fucking cave.
D: Did you find her clit, Simon?