(not looking up) You’re not supposed to feel anything. That’s the mistake. You’re supposed to see .
(smiles thinly) Biography is the lie we tell to make death tidy. This— (touches the boot) —this is residue. The museum is not a mausoleum. It’s a drying rack for ghosts. theatermuseum wien
She’s always here. You just finally stopped talking long enough to notice. (not looking up) You’re not supposed to feel anything
Careful. That’s 1824. A model of the Theater an der Wien. The paint contains arsenic. theatermuseum wien
(almost gently) Good. Then you’re beginning to understand.
I’m looking for… I don’t know. Something real. Upstairs it’s all glass and labels. “Max Reinhardt’s gloves. 1905.” What am I supposed to feel?
(whispering): She’s here.