“He thinks that morals are paintings on walls and scruples are money in Russia.” [imdb]

Still I would want to be someone who’d answer to me:
Someone who sees like a child, gives like a saint,
feels like an angel — never mind the broken wings,
and speaks like a picture, cries like the rain, shines like a star,
as long as the fire remains.

We’ve come too far — too far to be so far apart.