She liked the life she had. She loved habits. She craved a day with nothing in it, a long, quiet stretch of hours in the studio.

She wanted him to see all of her and also none of her. She wanted him to be dazzled by the bits and blinded by the whole. She wanted him to see her whole and not in pieces. She had hopes that were hard to satisfy.

There are going to be moments of deep, deep doubts, and you have to have faith that your initial idea was good and just muddle through.

He's had a lot of chances to care, and he hasn't.

All my life, everybody has seen me a certain way. What do you see?

She realized all at once the deeper thing that bothered her, the thing that made him not just irritating but intolerable: how he kept loving her blindly when she deserved it so little.

Do you have any idea how much I've loved you?