“Guess that’s a thing you still do. You know, look like a douchebag.”

“For instance, this new idea that You-Know-Who can kill with a single glance from his eyes. That’s a basilisk, listeners. One simple test: Check whether the thing that’s glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it’s safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that’s still likely to be the last thing you ever do.”

“Look at us. You look like death, my friend, and I’m sure I do, too. We’ll never stop blaming ourselves. I guess that’s the price of love?”

“We teach people how to treat us. If you don’t put up with shit, and don’t settle for anything less than respect, that’s what you’ll get. But if you let the douchebags walk all over you and treat you like you’re disposable, then that’s what you’ll always get.”

“You know, I guess I just don't like to talk a lot about sad things. Now you know my flaw. What good does it do to talk about sad things in the past?”

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I know I did. I’m most likely dead now, and I guess if there’s any kind of fairness in the afterlife I’m probably in hell getting roasted. But if that’s where I am, I want you to know, I still love you. Always did. Love, Caine”