Celia, wait,” Marco says, standing but not moving closer to her. “You are breaking my heart. You told me once that I reminded you of your father. That you never wanted to suffer the way your mother did for him, but you are doing exactly that to me. You keep leaving me. You leave me longing for you again and again when I would give anything for you to stay, and it is killing me.” “It has to kill one of us,” Celia says quietly.

Why haven’t you asked me how I do my tricks?” Celia asks, once they have reached the point where she is certain he is not simply being polite about the matter. “Because I do not wish to know,” he says. “I prefer to remain unenlightened, to better remain in the dark.

“Nothing's impossible,” Poppet responds. She smiles at him and jumps, her red hair trailing out behind her as she falls.

Once they were librarians, but that is a subject they will only discuss if heavily intoxicated.

If she were gone I would be nothing. You should think better of yourself than to settle for that.

Because I do not wish to know,” he says. “I prefer to remain unenlightened, to better appreciate the dark.

It is destroying me that I cannot ask you to dance.