The cruelest thing, hope, the way it strings you along, the way it makes you believe.

Knowledge does have a way of making you an outcast.

Making fake promises while wearing a fancy dress... that isn't enough. Promises take more work than that.

Freedom of speech doesn't mean freedom from judgement.

Books didn't make me wallow in darkness, darkness made me wallow in books.

And I have to admit that there is something undeniably fulfilling about hunting with Rosie. Somehow, it makes me feel as if the long list of differences between us doesn't exist. We're dressed the same, we fight the same enemy, we win together ... It's as though for that moment I get to be her, the one who isn't covered in thick scars, and she gets to understand what it is to be me. It's different than hunting with Silas-he and I are partners, not part of the same heart.

This is why Caliban was a punishment. I realize it now - it's a beautiful, perfect world of nothingness. No connection, no longing, no . . . love. A world we're trapped in until we're needed here, a world we're condemned to while everyone we might care about forgets us.