»Tell me about beauty«, said Jimmy.
»Look at me, there is your definition if I'm right about what you mean«, answered Deborah.
»I wish I weren't here for what I'm here. I don't deplore what happened.«
»How should you? I'm your world and everything you have.«
»You altered everything«, he said puling the trigger of his gun, »Beauty is a tear of sorrow, for you can never preserve what you see.«