Savage Messiah

Sophie Brzeska:
My book is about sleep; that thick oily substance. Under the surface you float; half dreaming, half waking. Hidden, you hope, yet the world comes though. You cannot imagine the ways I've evolved to abolish myself there... under the surface. Half sleeping. Half waking. Leaving your worries and your clothes asleep. But the rent never sleeps and time never sleeps.

Henri Gaudier:
Ah, you'll like my mother. She's wonderful.

Sophie Brzeska:
I thought your mother lived in the country.

Henri Gaudier:
Oh, that's my natural mother. My real mother is... [produces photograph]

Sophie Brzeska:
The Louvre! Aww, rubbish. 'Pretentious townhouse full of junk stolen from savages.'

Henri Gaudier:
Art is made from art.

Sophie Brzeska:
That's not what you said yesterday...

Henri Gaudier:
That was yesterday!

Sophie Brzeska:
Look! You said, and don't you dare tell me I'm wrong, that today's art cannot be made from anything except today!

Henri Gaudier:
And where do you think today comes from, huh? Yesterday. Or do you see some clean break along the line of days stretching back from here to Babylon?

Sophie Brzeska:
Look, you never say the same thing twice, boy. You change all the time.

Henri Gaudier:
Yes, I change. When I lie down at night it's as if I'm going to die. When I get up in the morning, I get up as if I'm going to live forever.

Sophie Brzeska:
And you expect me to fling myself into your arms for always? Hah! I know your sort, you'll be off in a week.

Henri Gaudier:
I will carry my love for you, no matter where my mind leads me.