Cecily: Yves just told me he may take a post in the symphony in Amsterdam. If he does, he leaves next week.
Charles: That’s a decidedly refined take on the old man-off-to-war story;”Cecily, I must serve in the orchestra in Amsterdam. I ship off tomorrow”.
Cecily: You have an increasing fanbase. People enjoy Charles’ romantic cynicism.
Charles: I’m blushing… If that was the sort of thing I’d do…which as you know, I don’t.
Cecily: Mr. Right is always right for a few weeks. Right now there are four Mr. Not-quite-right-but-good-for-winter-nights types.
Cecily: You look sad.
Jonathan: Yes.
Cecily: Why?
Jonathan: Because women and men are the same… It would be better if women were wiser.
Cecily: It would be better if you were in love with a wiser woman.
Noah: Do you always wear something on your head? What does Freud have to say about that?
Alexander: I’m increasingly infatuated with a lumbersexual. He’s really into metaphysics and is a licensed massage therapist. Pseudo-profundity and deft hands are the only traits I require in a man at this particular moment.
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?
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.
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