I poured my heart out to him in the most brutish and obtuse way I could conceive of: howling and laughing, drunk off cheap liquor and the very absurdity of what I was doing, and reveling in the horrified look on his face. This man however, this wonderful enigmatic man, composed himself quite quickly after I finished my tirade. He then said simply, "My dear, you're quite beautiful, but I cannot love a madwoman."