“I did not do it. Yet now I wish I had.’ He turned to face the hall, that sea of pale faces. ‘I wish I had enough poison for you all. You make me sorry that I am not the monster you would have me be, yet there it is. I am innocent, but I will get no justice here.”

“Nothing but this: I did not do it. Yet now I wish I had... I wish I had enough poison for you all. You make me sorry that I am not the monster you would have me be, yet there it is.”

“I'm sorry. For everything I did. For everything I didn't. I wish you were here. I know it's not enough, but I guess this is the closest I am going to get, to saving you.”

“‎And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire.”

“What is it with me? Am I absolutely nobody, but merely inordinately vain? I do not know…. But I am most fearfully unhappy. That is all. I am so unhappy that I wish I was dead—yet I should be mad to die when I have not yet lived at all.”

“I have something to tell you.""How, you have something to tell me?""You have understood me exactly.""Well, I am listening.""Listening? Then, you wish me to tell you?""Yes, that is it. I am listening, and therefore I wish you to tell me.""Shall I tell you now?""No.”