We don't look at each other anymore. Not really. Not since I pulled him from that opium den. Now when I look at him, I see the addict. And when he looks at me, he sees what he would rather not remember. I wish I could be his adored little girl again, sitting at his side.

What you want can be yours. But you must first know what it is you want.

Thou shalt not steal. I seem to recall that being one of God’s I’d rather you didn’t lest I have to smite you into ash commandments.

Do you think they missed him terribly when he fell? Did God cry over his lost angel, I wonder?

No one can steal our dream.

Board the cows! We've come to enslave your marigolds.

If God has nothing better to do than punish schoolgirls for a bit of tomfoolery, then I've no use for God.