The more someone repeats their protestations of love, the less I believe in their love. Soon it will be three, soon it will be six, soon, soon enough, too soon it is tomorrow. Not everyone feels what you feel. Not everyone thinks what you think. Not everyone wants what you want. If I tell you that you are beautiful and you tell me it isn’t true, I will never speak to you again. I look down on awards, on people who give awards, on people who accept awards.
Lord Malinov, Song of Songs