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Anton Chigurh: Don't put it in your pocket. It's your lucky quarter.
Gas Station Proprietor: Where do you want me to put it?
Anton Chigurh: Anywhere not in your pocket. Where it'll get mixed in with the others and become just a coin. Which it is.
You can see there this is going. Art, like lucky quarters, made indistinguishable from their unordained brethren, just a coin. Thrown into the pile of stuff the anxiety of an artwork lost, returning to common object, which it is.