I can still see her face -- The sorrow in her eyes, her voice, as she condemns me. I didn't know it was possible to feel such shame. To feel so sick at heart. I'm lost inside, my soul -- all that I thought I was, and am, and ever will be -- shattered, cast to the winds. Compared to this, death is a mercy.
Chris ClaremontWhat use legs if not to take you down the road? What use eyes if not to see what lay beyond the horizon? What use hands if not to open doors?
Chris Claremont