I'm Not The Consolation Prize, Dex. I'm

She Had Never Been A Proficient Flirt. Her Spasms Of Kittenish Behaviour Were Graceless And Inept, Like Normal Conversation On Roller Skates. But The Combination Of The Retsina And Sun Made Emma Feel Sentimental And Light-headed. She Reached For Her Roller Skates.

You Must Do What You Enjoy.

To Have Had Fame, Even Very Minor Fame, And To Have Lost It, Got Older And Maybe Put On A Little Weight Is A Kind Of Living Death.

It's The Face Itself That I Love, Not That Face At Twenty-eight Or Thirty-four Or Forty-three. It's That Face.

Dexter, I Love You So Much. So, So Much, And I Probably Always Will. I Just Don't Like You Anymore. I'm Sorry.