"Life, for all its anguish, is ours, Miss Ives. It belongs to no other."
"Is it a sickness? Or is it something else? Is it a blessing, the porpuse of which we can not yet see? I say, this is what it is. For I know you, my friend, Ethan Chandler, I see inside you."
"I am nothing. I am no more than a blade of grass. But I am. You think you know evil? Here it stands."
"And if my immortal soul is lost to me, something yet remains. I remain."
"Let it end. With a kiss."
"With a kiss. With love."
"With love."
"My ancestor, Joan Clayton. If she were here what would she say?"
"Be true."
"Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?"
My little scorpion.
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