Elizabeth: To be yourself you have to constantly remember yourself.
Elizabeth: At last, you have suppressed the memory of me.
Simon: No piece of art is worth a human life.
Simon: I was really good, but not good enough. And not good enough really isn't very good.
Elizabeth: The memory is not destroyed, it is locked in a cage, and with enough force, enough violence, the lock can be broken. It comes back, the memory, not completely, not entirely, but enough to drive you, to make you feel you have been cheated, enough to make you angry. What did she look like?
Elizabeth: She will do anything for you. You fall in love with a kind of perfection, the kind you like. But then you become possessive, suspicious. Night and day, you fear that you will lose her. It torments you, and you become jealous. You start to believe that you depend upon her. That without her, you will die.