Care

"You are beautiful, but you are empty, " he went on."One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you — the rose that belongs to me.But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing.
Because she is my rose."

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— I love you.
— I'm sorry, Michael, but...
— Do you have any feelings for me?
— Michael, I'm paid to do what I do for you. That's my job. That isn't love. And what you feel for me, that isn't love either. It's gratitude. I like working for you, but... it is just a job. There isn't anything else going on here, Michael, do you understand? There isn't anything else going on.

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