CHARLIE: Ya know what I miss? I miss the gold star. I'd 'a done anything to get that star. Yes, miss teacher. No, miss teacher. Seventeen, miss teacher. The cotton gin, miss teacher. Half a quid at the corner store for twenty-five, and I'd 'a fucking cut a man for one. They came in red and blue and silver, but the best, the best were the gold. Ain't never been a feeling like it, before or since. Gettin' a gold star was achievement. It was a pure hit of pride, mainlined straight into your fuckin' eyeballs. If you ain't never got a gold star, that's worse than bein' a virgin. A man could have a thousand women and never once feel the warmth and serenity and satisfaction of that single golden star. But now? I got a million choices. A billion opportunities. And not one of them, not a fucking one, gets me a gold star. That's what I miss.