And when I think about her, those are the things I think about most. Eventually I'd fall asleep, out of sheer exhaustion and not wake up when I was supposed to cause she'd have already gotten to my alarms. She was afraid of the dark, so the closet light was on all night. Eventually I got a second clock and put it under my side of the bed, but it got to where she was gettin' to that one too. I was late for work all the time because in the middle of the night she'd roll over and turn the damn thing off. My wife used to turn the alarm clock off in her sleep. Well, I think that's a great philosophy Will, that way you can go through your entire life without ever having to really know anybody. Right now she's perfect, I don't want to ruin that. Will: Why? So I can realize she's not so smart. She's different from the other girls I met. Hangin' around here is a fuckin' waste of your time.вЂќ It'd be an insult to us if you're still here in 20 years. 'Cause I'd do fuckin' anything to have what you got. And you're too much of a pussy to cash it in, and that's bullshit. I mean, you're sittin' on a winnin' lottery ticket. Cuz tomorrow I'm gonna wake up and I'll be 50, and I'll still be doin' this shit. Fuck you, you don't owe it to yourself man, you owe it to me. Will:В Oh, come on! What? Why is it always this? I mean, I fuckin' owe it to myself to do this or that. That's not a threat, that's a fact, I'll fuckin' kill ya.Д¬huckie:В You got somethin' none of us have. We'll be neighbors, have little kids, take 'em to Little League up at Foley Field.Д¬huckie:В Look, you're my best friend, so don't take this the wrong way but, in 20 years if you're still livin' here, comin' over to my house, watchin' the Patriots games, workin' construction, I'll fuckin' kill ya. вЂњWill:В What do I wanna way outta here for? I'm gonna live here the rest of my fuckin' life. But you don't want to do that do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. I don't give a shit about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you, I can't read in some fuckin' book. Sean: You think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my fucking life apart. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. I don't see an intelligent, confident man. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms 'visiting hours' don't apply to you. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell.

Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, 'once more unto the breach dear friends.' But you've never been near one. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling seen that. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel.

вЂњSo if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written.

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