The Artist

Amanda.
I'm the only one the Artist left alive, and this mistake will cost him his life. He will pay for every scar on my body, for every one of my nightmares. If he is not executed, I will come for him myself and drive a knife into his black heart. But he escapes from prison long before the execution and will not stop now. After all, I am not just his mistake, I am his instrument, his property, his perfect picture. And I cannot escape from him.

Lawrence.
I am never wrong, and Amanda is no exception. She will understand this as soon as I count to four. One. She has belonged to me since the very moment I first saw her. Two. I will break her and put her back together: slowly, methodically, with particular pleasure. Three. Let her scream, resist, hate me, but we both know how this will end. She will crawl to me and beg me to continue. Four. I am her Master, and she is my obedient instrument. And it will always be this way.