Lines I'd like to add.

Ever think of an addition or improvement to a show's dialogue? I thought of this example from "Leaves of Grass" (which is currently in my movie-I-keep-coming-back-to mental box), so I thought I'd make a thread of it.

This is the dialogue from a scene that bothers me because I think it needs to be finished off.

What I want to add is because I believe Bill is right. (off the wall thought, if this had been Bill's twin brother Bradley in the scene, it would have been Brad and Janet...but I digress.):

Janet: You still leaving tomorrow.
Bill: I think so.
Janet: I'll miss you.
Bill: And we barely know each other.
Janet: "You have not known what you are. You have slumbered upon yourself all your life. Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time. What you have done returns already in mockeries. The mockeries are not you. Underneath them, and within them, I see you lurk."
Bill: Who was that?
Janet: Walt Whitman.
Bill: I don't think I ever imagined hearing him recited to me by a girl gutting a 40 pound catfish.
Janet: That's exactly how he should be recited. He wrote without rhyme or meter. Free verse. Just whatever he felt inside coming out in one intricate rhythm. Pure unashamed passion, without definable restriction.
Bill: I'm sorry, see, I have a few issues with that.
Janet: Why?
Bill: Because some have dared to suggest that even poetry has rules.
Janet: Or you make your own.
Bill Kincaid: Right there, that's the part I never bought into.
Janet: Because?
Bill: If everybody runs around making their own rules, how can you ever find what's true? There's nothing... there's nothing to rely on.
Janet: "One night, I split my cicada skin, devoured your leaves, knowing no poison, no law of nourishment in that larval blindness, a hunger finally true."
Bill: Who's that?
Janet: That's me.

<I would add>

Bill: Wouldn't that and Whitman be more correctly termed, poetic prose?
Janet: No.
Bill: (smiles) Now who's making the rules?

(Inside Phil/Lit joke)