driving at the speed limit--hideous thought.

It's not a good feeling--knowing that you profoundly deserve the title of monster. It's better to be kind than to feel guilty.

Kryptonite doesn’t bother me, either.

How did anyone survive this world, with these bodies whose memories wouldn't stay in the past where they should? With the emotions that were so strond I couldn't tell what I felt anymore?

You're not like anyone I've ever known. You fascinate me.

How well opposed to grand Theft Auto are you?

Don't be a baby about this. No tantrums.