human
It is beautiful here,
gpt
Oh, it's very beautiful! he replied, calmly, without seeing that she was constrained.
human
So green, so spacious, so peaceful: those long avenues, those vistas of avenues, like an antique arch, over yonder; and, far away in the distance, look, St. Peter's, always St. Peter's. It's a pity about those queer things lower down: that restaurant, that milk-tent. People spoil everything nowadays.... Let us sit down here: it is so lovely here.
gpt
It is such a joy when a thing is beautiful, he continued.
human
People are never beautiful. Things are beautiful: statues and paintings. And then trees and clouds!
gpt
Do you paint?
human
Sometimes, he confessed, grudgingly.
gpt
A little. But really everything has been painted already; and I can't really say that I paint.
human
Perhaps you write too?
gpt
There has been even more written than painted, much more. Perhaps everything has not yet been painted, but everything has certainly been written. Every new book that is not of absolute scientific importance is superfluous. All the poetry has been written and every novel too.
human
Do you read much?
gpt
Hardly at all. I sometimes dip into an old author.
human
But what do you do then?
gpt
Nothing, he answered, calmly, with a glance of humility.
human
I do nothing, I exist.
gpt
Do you think that a good mode of existence?
human
No.
gpt
Then why don't you adopt another?
human
As I might buy a new coat or a new bicycle?
gpt
You're not speaking seriously,
human
Why are you so vexed with me?
gpt
Because you annoy me,
human
Then I had better go for a turn on my bicycle.
gpt
What a stupid fellow!