Who was that?” I whispered, as if the walls could hear me. They were lined with pictures, a few of which I recognized as being painted by master painters. “Rhys.” “Yeah, I know but… is he my brother?” I asked. I had already decided that he was foxy, so I really hoped that he wasn‟t.
Yeah, you're probably right," I admitted and slowly pulled myself out from underneath the covers. "You know, I really wish you'd catch onto the fact that I'm always right.
Oh yeah. That's why. Like a fairy tale. I was marrying the Prince. I just happened to be in love with the pauper.
Yeah, I read Judy Blume. My mother didn't like that, but I read it anyhow.
Yeah, well I'm not aspiring to be the Prime Minister.
My mother says to me, when I'm making a new movie, she says, "Oh, is Steve Buscemi in it?" I'd say, "Yeah." And she, "Oh, then it's going to be a good one." I swear to God, she says that every time. And when I say Steve's not in it, she says, "Oh."
Yeah, I think speculation keeps things really interesting.
