“My face and body are not my essence. My actions, ideas, and ideals are the stuff of me. My clone will have my face and body, but he won’t be me. ”
“You’re just using me for my body.” “You don’t have a body,” I’d remind him. “Throw that in my face.” “Technically, you don’t have a face either.”
“He came up to me and kissed my neck, cupping the side of my face with his hand. He whispered, "Now give me your keys""Over my dead body.”
“I had an out-of-body experience so strange that it felt normal. You see, my soul, or essence, had left my body and went and inhabited the body of my clone. So I wasn’t in my body, and yet I was. Or maybe none of that happened, and I was just in a delirious, sleep-deprived state.”
“Of course my clone will be handsome. He’ll look exactly like my other clone, won’t he?”
“They may torture my body, break my bones, even kill me. Then they will have my dead body, but not my obedience.”