Anne:
There's no point in going on living. That's how it is. I know it can only get worse. Why should I inflict this on us, on you and me?
Georges:
You're not inflicting anything on me.
Anne:
You don't have to lie, Georges.
Georges:
[looks down at the floor contemplatively]
Put yourself in my place. Didn't you ever think that it could happen to me, too?
Anne:
Of course I did. But imagination and reality have little in common.
Georges:
But things are getting better every day.
Anne:
I don't want to carry on. You're making such sweet efforts to make everything easier for me. But I don't want to go on. For my own sake, not yours.
Georges:
I don't believe you. I know you. You think you are a burden to me. But what would you do in my place?
Anne:
I don't want to rack my brain over this. I'm tired, I want to go to bed.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 09:00
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