i am strange than fiction.

Ana Pascal: [Hurt and annoyed that Harold refuses to just take the cookies and has offered to buy them] Go home Harold.
Harold Crick: Okay.
[starts for the door and realizes he's dissappointed her]
Harold Crick: Did- You made those cookies for me, didn't you.
[She looks at him sadly]
Harold Crick: You were just trying to be nice, and I blew it.
[reaches into his briefcase and retrieves the little black book where he's tracking his comedy vs tragedy tallies, and there are a lot of marks under tragedy. Sadly]
Harold Crick: This may sound like gibberish to you, but I think I'm in a tragedy.