Paul Holland:
It's not beautiful.
Betsy Connell:
You read my thoughts, Mr. Holland.
Paul Holland:
It's easy enough to read the thoughts of a newcomer. Everything seems beautiful because you don't understand. Those flying fish, they're not leaping for joy, they're jumping in terror. Bigger fish want to eat them. That luminous water, it takes its gleam from millions of tiny dead bodies. The glitter of putrescence. There's no beauty here, only death and decay.
Betsy Connell:
You can't really believe that.
Paul Holland:
Everything good dies here. Even the stars.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:12