Cecily: I knew he’d be special when we first met. I catalysed it. I saw him order a margarita and ordered the same, because I knew that way he’d talk to me. He still thinks it was more serendipity than strategy, but who am I to sap away that rare magic?
Vinnie: Give me a unicorn and I’ll sell it to a boucherie.
Cecily: I have created whole characters out of hyperbolic metaphor, and written of kaleidoscopes of butterflies without the need for any metaphor at all.
Vinnie: You’re gay (that’s the expression Americans use when they cannot comprehend something).
Cecily: You’re straight (that’s the expression we queens use when we know exactly how to describe somebody).
Nigel: I am not sure flaneurs or flaneuses would ever meet on Tinder.
Cecily: Don’t be so pretentious that you can’t be open to modern first meetings and classically romantic evolutions thereafter.
Alexander: I doubt anyone with an IQ that qualifies them as even marginally better than brain dead could find happiness in the Côte d’Azur.
Nino: I should not have hesitated with you.
Cecily: We weren’t right to be together forever. You know it. But we will always be something special. You know that too.
Nino: What do you think could have been wrong?
Cecily: We’re maybe both butterflies. And we seek plants to settle with. Not other butterflies.
Cecily: I had a massive panic attack the other day because I haven’t dealt with monogamy in such a very long time.
Alexander: Maybe try and brainwash them just enough to start a polyamorous cult of mutually aware men who are in love with you?
Cecily: I did that over summer.
thedailymails 