Warren: Of course she won’t understand, Sparky. I’m beyond her understanding. She’s a girl with sugar and spice and everything useless, unless you’re baking. I’m more than that. More than flesh…
Glory: More than blood. I’m- you know, I honestly don’t think there’s a human word fabulous enough for me. Oh, my name will be on everyone’s lips. Assuming their lips haven’t been torn off. But not just yet. That’s alright, though.
Adam: I can be patient. Everything is well within parameters. She’s exactly where I want her to be. And so are you, Number 17. You’re right where you belong.
Mayor Richard Wilkins: So what’d ya thing? You’d get your soul back and everything’d be Jim-dandy? Soul’s slippery than a greased weasel. Why do you think I sold mine? Well, you probably thought that you’d be your own man, and I respect that.
Drusilla: But you never will. You’ll always be mine. You’ll always be in the dark with me. Singing our little songs. You like our little songs, don’t you? You’ve always liked them. Right from the beginning. And that’s where we’re going.
The Master: Right back to the beginning. Not the bang, not the word, the true beginning. The next few months are going to be quite a ride. And I think we’re all going to learn something about ourselves in the process. You’ll learn you’re a pathetic schmuck, if it hasn’t sunk in already. Look at you, trying to do what’s right. Just like her. You still don’t get it. It’s not about right. Not about wrong.
Requested by pess-i-mist