I'm not going to tell the story the way it happened. I'm going to tell it the way I remember it.
What's it like not to feel anything?
I knew that little girl and I saw the light in her eyes, and no matter what you say or do, that's still what I see.
Seven years passed, I stopped going to Paradiso Perduto, I stopped painting. I put aside the fantasy and the wealthy, and the heavenly girl who did not want me. None of it would happen to me again. I'd seen through it. I elected to grow up.
The night all of my dreams came true, and like all happy endings, it was a tragedy, of my own device, for I succeeded. I had cut myself loose from Joe, from the past, from the Gulf, from poverty I had invented myself. I'd done it cruelly, but I had done it. I was free!
If this isn't love, I don't think I can handle the real thing, baby.
It's my heart, and it's broken.
Everything I have ever done, I've done for you.
I did it! I did it! I am a wild success! I sold 'em all, all my paintings. You don't have to be embarrassed by me anymore, I'm rich! Isn't that what you wanted, aren't we happy now. Don't you understand, that everything I do, I do it for you. Anything, that might be special in me, is you.
Let's say there was a little girl, and from the time she could understand, she was taught to fear... let's say she was taught to fear daylight. She was taught that it was her enemy, that it would hurt her. And then one sunny day, you ask her to go outside and play and she won't. You can't be angry at her, can you?