I think she's having hysterics. Maybe you should slap her.
You want me to be all doom and gloom, or just shut up?
Could I betray my absent heart to save my pathetic life?
I hate myself for liking you.
It was a strange combination to absorb - the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of his early days in seventeenth-century London.
But never in the four hundred years now since I was born, have I ever seen anything to make me doubt whether God exists in some form or the other. Not even the reflection in the mirror.