“I see my hands... they are dirty and have callouses. I'm wearing.. some shapeless thing. I don't know what it's called. It's not my jeans, that's for sure. And it's also dirty. Everything is dirty. I'm definitely a dirty peasant. I'm going back to my hut. What's for dinner? It's mud. We're eating mud for dinner.”
―
François Tremblay,
She's Found Her Mind