"Oh, it's the typical Madonna/Whore thing."

"Yeah, like 'A lady in the street, but a freak in the bed.'"

"That would suck if you messed it up and got a freak in the street, but a lady in the bed. You'd be walking along together and she'd be like 'Hi, stranger, can I suck your cock?' and then you'd go home and she'd be like 'I think doggystyle is gross.'"

"That would suck."

"You know that girl with the banana face?"

"No. What's a banana face?"

"You know, it's like 'Everything about her is hot, banana face.'"

"I don't think that's a thing."

When I read the below quote (from Unbearable Lightness of Being) I begin to feel like there are really only two ways of living: in acceptance of or in rebellion/betrayal to.

When we leave childhood we all accept or betray the lifestyles our parents taught us. When we leave a relationship we either accept or betray the things we've learned about being in love with that person.

I felt a little depressed a few years ago after watching a touring modern art retrospective in Houston. Each artistic "movement" seemed to exist only in reference to the movement before it. It seems that way with everything.

I do have some sense of interest in discovering "truly" original ideas, but most of the time I figure it doesn't really matter in the end.

But if we betray B., for whom we betrayed A., it does not necessarily follow that we have placated A. . . . The first betrayal is irreparable. It calls forth a chain reaction of further betrayals, each of which takes us farther and farther away from the point of our original betrayal.