S. - Ship of Theseus - Pg 423

 And there they are: artist and muse, assassin and abettor, two bodies pulled into middle age and beyond, and--most truly--two individuals swallowing their uncertainties, standing and facing each other in underclothes that are in grave need of washing. This is who we are, he thinks, and she nods, even though this time he is certain he has said nothing aloud.