We are a path in the woods. We have no beginning, and we have no end, but something cold and unnatural sits watching us from just beyond our edge.

The only mistake I ever made was thinking you would help me. And I'm not going to make the same mistake twice.

You are familiar, but you are not me. I feel sadness, longing, hope, as I witness you.

In life, I was painfully mortal. A witness to the end of days. I held the fear of death in my heart, and saw oblivion threaten the very memory of everything I knew and everyone I loved. I needed to do something.

I didn’t actually think our actions had consequences.

This one is guarded sorrow. She saw herself as alone but in the end had courage to share with another. She will make for a deep heart.

That’s so rude of you, passing judgments on strangers you’ve never met just because they’re different from you! How would you like it if I did that, huh?

Are you even alive? What's the point of doing anything if you're not going to feel a single emotion.

What is a person? Is it their body? Is it all of their body? Pluck the eyes, peel the skin, strip the tendons, mince the meat, grind the bones. When it is all gone, do you still have who you started with?

You are like me, even if you have chosen not to look at the corners of you that do not fit, even if you have chosen to ignore the brilliant contours of your soul.

Whatever horrors you may find in these dark spaces, have heart and see them through. There are no premature endings. There are no wrong decisions. There are only fresh perspectives and new beginnings. This is a love story.

She sounds… dangerous… It’s almost as if she’s the one in charge down here.

If I destroy Her, won’t I be alone?

Whatever horrors you may find in these dark spaces, have heart and see them through. There are no premature endings. There are no wrong decisions. There are only fresh perspectives and new beginnings. This is a love story.

I care about your gifts, but I have no preference to burden you with. Even if I did, I would never dare to tarnish our relationship by assuming myself above you.

Will you place the images of ‘You’ and ‘I’ into a box for safekeeping? If you close that box, will you become another you in another world? An imaginary pattern repeating itself until it can no longer bear the weight of its hand-drawn cage.

A person is not a body. Death is a transformation into something new. It is only bodies that fear it.

You have made a decision. It is the wrong one. I love you.

This one is a reflecting pool of desire unfulfilled. She will make for a pliable heart.

If I destroy Her, won’t I be alone?

You can’t be a contradiction. Contradictions don’t exist.

“Are you me?” “I think you know what I am.”

I can be innocent and harmless… if I want to be. Teasing me with fresh air and a chance to finally live freely doesn’t inspire me to play nice.

Is this fun for you? It’s not fun for me. I don’t like being sliced to pieces.

Other desires shrink in the light of knowing you and knowing me.

“Activities like stabbing or cutting or murdering?” “Yes! I mean maybe! I’ve never done any of those things but there is something alluring about the sound of it.”

You did kill someone. Greater good or not, something would be very wrong with you if you didn’t feel at least a little bad.

[Throw the blade out of the window.]

No! What foul trickery is this? How can this be? We just saw her alive and well a moment ago, floating away transparently!

You’ve unraveled.