l don't even know what sorry means anymore. lt's odd. When l was
alive, l knew. Maybe it was all l knew. But here. sorry is
meaningless. Love is meaningless. Jealousy is meaningless.What is love
anyway? From my new vantage point, l realize that love is nothing more
than a messy conglomeration of need desperation, fear of death and
insecurity about penis size. But l'm not judging it. I know how
miserable it is to be alive. Listen.. l don't want to be dead yet.
Once Nathan discussed with another psychologist about his table
manners teaching:
Psychologist: early childhood indoctrination has something to do with
your interest in table manners in the present?
Nathan: Seems a tad convenient, don't you think, Wendall?
Psychologist: Well, do you have any thoughts then on where this
passion -might've come from?
Nathan: lt's my work. You can't reduce my passion to parental
indoctrination. Why did Picasso paint? Why did Mozart compose?
Psychologist: Picasso's father was a painter. Mozart's father was a musician.
Nathan: Yes, okay. Now you're being nasty. Now you rejust
showing off. l really didn't come here to be mocked.
Psychologist: Well, that certainly wasn't my intention.
Nathan: lt's my work, Wendall.That's all.
Puff self narrate about his father:
by now that l was raised in the wilderness by an ape. Well, to be
fair, by a man who thought himself an ape. But... it amounts to the
same thing, gentlemen, does it not? After spending years in a mental
hospital for attempting to... take up residence in the ape house of
the local zoo... he did his best to live by your rules. He got a
job... he married a human, they had me. Until a national tragedy
(Kennedy assassinated by human that day) undid all those years of
therapy... and reminded him what the human race was truly about. Apes
don't assassinate their presidents, gentlemen. So, he stole little me
from my human mother... and raised me with love and tenderness and
respect. Until quite recently gentlemen, l believed myself to be an
ape. Although, l didn't know specifically what type. Apes don't think
in terms of type. lt might be argued, gentlemen... that apes don't
even know they're apes. ln retrospect, however, l'd say l was a pygmy
chimp.