“I just wish—sometimes I look out at my life, everything I’ve seen so far, and it all looks so—so grotesque. I look for the virtue, I don’t see any. I’m dying for proof of it, you know, proof of something good—something like divinity. But I don’t see it. I look at my life, and I see this warehouse of—of gargoyles. Why do vices get to be physical? Why do they get to clutter up the world? Why can’t I see any fucking virtues?” This is the part that has made her cry the hardest. She’s too upset to be embarrassed, too upset to hate him as he touches her arm.
