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] Where are you?
: A crying woman is a scheming woman.
: Nature is Satan's church.
: What I understood, was that you wanted to write alone. So you could finish your thesis. She
: But I didn't. He
: You didn't. She
: You see? You didn't even know that. He
: Why did you give up? That's not like you. She
: The whole project just seemed less important, up there. As you said, when I talked to you about my subject: 'glib.' He
: I never called your subject glib. She
: Perhaps you didn't use that word, but that's what you meant. And, all of a sudden, it was glib. Or, even worse, some kind of lie. He
: I see. She
: No, you don't see. You see a lot of things, but not that.
: Oak trees grow to be hundreds of years old. They only have to produce one single tree every hundred years in order to propagate. May sound banal to you but it was a big thing for me to realize that when I was up here with Nic. The acorns fell on the roof vent. They kept falling and falling. And die and die. And I understood that everything that used to be beautiful about Eden was perhaps hideous. Now I could hear what I couldn't hear before. The cry of all the things that are to die.