I read too much. I thought we should kill ourselves. She doesn’t read a thing; she believed me. “Are you really the messiah?” “Yes, I am.” She was younger than me, too. She was younger than me. And I said to her. I said, “You know, Pauline? No one stamps on a burning bag of shit any more. Nobody.”
“Are you really the messiah?” “Yes, I am. Believe it.”