“What miralces can there be when Germany has sold her soul?”

“The soul is a terrible reality. It can be bought and sold and bartered away.”

“I can almost believe the rumors that say you’ve sold your soul to the devil when you look like that. (Sean)You can more than believe it, MacKaid. Harm her and I’ll introduce you to the devil myself. (Ewan)”

“But souls can't be sold. They can only be lost and never found again.”

“How can I describe what effect that ancient, absurd, and wonderful rite has upon me when her lips touch mine? Can I find a formula to express that whirlwind which sweeps out of my soul everything, everything save her?”

“When Bach died some of his children sold his scores to the butcher they had decided the paper was more useful for wrapping meat. In a small village in Germany a father brought home a limp goose wrapped in paper that was covered with strange and beautiful symbols.”