On it was written, in a large un- formed handwriting:
I love you.
(...)
'Have you done this before?'
'Of course. Hundreds of times-well, scores of times, any way.'
'With Party members?'
'Yes, always with Party members.'
'With members of the Inner Party?'
'Not with those swine, no. But there's plenty that would if they got half a chance. They're not so holy as they make out.'
His heart leapt. Scores of times she had done it: he wished it had been hundreds-thousands. Anything that hinted at corruption always filled him with a wild hope. Who knew, perhaps the Party was rotten under the surface, its cult of strenuousness and self-denial simply a sham concealing in- iquity. If he could have infected the whole lot of them with leprosy or syphilis, how gladly he would have done so! Any- thing to rot, to weaken, to undermine! He pulled her down so that they were kneeling face to face.
'Listen. The more men you've had, the more I love you. Do you understand that?'
'Yes, perfectly.'
'I hate purity, I hate goodness! I don't want any virtue to exist anywhere. I want everyone to be corrupt to the bones.'
'Well then, I ought to suit you, dear. I'm corrupt to the bones.'
'You like doing this? I don't mean simply me: I mean the thing in itself?'
'I adore it.'

And you said we wouldn't make it,
But look how far we've come.
(...)
You're a trainwreck,
But I wouldn't love you if you changed.

It's a feeling like a born again teen,
Got a heartbeat like we're only sixteen.

Geppetto 내가 누군지 알아야겠어요
You are my Geppetto
But I'm not Pinocchio, anymore

So give me something to believe
'Cause I am living just to breathe
And I need something more
To keep on breathing for
So give me something to believe
Something's always coming
You can hear it in the ground
It swells into the air
With the rising, rising sound
And never comes but shakes the boards
And rattles all the doors
What are we waiting for?