Matthew: Yes, I'm drunk. And you're beautiful. And tomorrow morning, I'll be sober but you'll still be beautiful.
Theo: Papa's full of shit.
Matthew: I think you're lucky. Um, I wish my parents were that nice.
Isabelle: Other people's parents are *always* nicer than our own, and yet for some reason, our own grandparents are always nicer than other people's.
Matthew: I was one of the insatiables. The ones you'd always find sitting closest to the screen. Why do we sit so close? Maybe it was because we wanted to receive the images first. When they were still new, still fresh. Before they cleared the hurdles of the rows behind us. Before they'd been relayed back from row to row, spectator to spectator; until worn out, secondhand, the
size of a postage stamp, it returned to the projectionist's cabin. Maybe, too, the screen was really a screen. It screened us... from the world.
Isabelle: We do love you very much!
Matthew: I don't want to be loved very much, I just want to be loved.
Theo: Clapton is God, Matthew.
Matthew: I don't believe in God; but, if I did, he would be a black, left-handed guitarist. This is not Chaplin and Keaton. This is Clapton and Hendrix.
Theo: Matthew, Clapton reinvented the electric guitar.
Matthew: Clapton reinvented the electric guitar? Clapton plugs in a
guitar, he plugs in an electric guitar and he plays it like an acoustic guitar. Hendrix plugs in an electric guitar, he plays with his teeth. There are soldiers in the Vietnam War right now. Who are they listening to? Clapton? No, they're listening to Hendrix. The guy who tells the truth.
Theo: [reading from a book] A revolution isn't a gala dinner. It cannot be created like a book, a drawing or a tapestry. It cannot unfold with such elegance, tranquility and delicacy. Or such sweetness, affability. Courtesy, restraint and generosity. A revolution is an uprising, a violent act by which one class overthrows another.
Isabelle: [standing in the doorway, wearing only long black gloves and sheet draped around her hips] What sculpture?
Matthew: I always wanted to make love to Venus de Milo.
Isabelle: I can't stop you. I got no arms.
Matthew: [voice over] I could hear my heart pounding. I don't know if it was because I'd just been chased by the police or because I was already in love with my new friends. As we walked and talked and talked and talked, about politics, about movies, and why the French could never come close to producing a good rock band... I didn't want that night to ever end.
Isabelle: Theo, Theo. Wake up.
Theo: [sleepily, eyes still closed] What is it?
Isabelle: I want you to listen.
Theo: Why?
Isabelle: Because. Theo?
Theo: Mm?
Isabelle: I love you. You know that?
Theo: I love you too.
Isabelle: You love me too? That's funny. Are you listening? It's forever, right?
Theo: What's forever?
Isabelle: The two of us. Right?
Theo: Yes. Why did Matthew say that?
Isabelle: What did Matthew say?
Theo: That we're monsters, freaks.
Isabelle: I just want you to tell me that it's forever. It's forever.