Four Days1999

Milt:
Do you now what love is? What is really is? Shall I tell you? Love is a disease, a cancer that eats you from inside. It eats you up without you knowing it. It assumes the exact size and shape of what was in you before. It becomes you. And when the disease goes away, when it leaves you, you realize you've been hollowed out. You've got nothing inside you any more.

The kid:
Broken feather duster.

Milt:
It's all been...

Milt, The kid:
...consumed.