Do you ever think about dying? I know I got years to worry about that but I can*t get it out of my mind. Sometimes I think if I don*t make it as a painter, I*m going to have to kill myself. You being a nymphomaniac…why? I mean, do you get any thrill or excitement from doing it; sex must be a mechanical act for you. Yeah? Then why do you do it? Stop. You could stop if you made up your mind. I*m a painter, Millie. A serious painter. And I know how to exercise self-control and self-discipline and how to say to myself, “no. I will not do this-and-this I will do that-and-that.” You have to say the same thing to yourself, Millie. You have to say, “No. I will not give in to temptation. I will not under any circumstances be degraded and used by dirty old men and degenerate creeps who have no feelings for me as a person.~~You have to say that to yourself. And promise and swear that after today you will never, never go to bed with a man unless you*re married to him. I*ve become very fond of you, Millie.But you don*t have to start now, today! That*s not self-discipline. Self-discipline is when you say to yourself, ‘Tomorrow morning at eight o*clock sharp I*ll stop doing this dirty thing but up until eight o*clock sharp tomorrow morning I*ll do this dirty thing as much as I like.” That*s self-discipline! Well, wait…I don’t mean today! Wait till tomorrow! But…(Calling after Millie as she exits.) Millie, wait a minute! Millie, don*t make a decision you*ll be sorry for! Millie!! I just bombed out with a nympho!