My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you’ve been mean to someone, they won’t believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it’s time to stop being nice, then destroy them.
I’m about to leave. I ask him to take me home. […] The road home isn’t very long, and I know I’ll be getting off soon. But at this moment, I’m feeling such lovely warmth. Fallen Angels | Wong Kar-Wai, 1995