“Please, do not leave me, Will Henry. I would not survive it. You were nearly right. What Mr. Kendall was, I am always on the brink of becoming. And you - I do not pretend to know how or even why - but you pull me back from the precipice. You are the one... You are the one thing that keeps me Human.”

“Have you fallen in love, Will Henry?" "That's stupid.""What is? Love, or my question?""I don't know.""You don't know? You've tried that trick once. What do you suppose it will work better the second time?""I don't love her. She bothers me." "You have just defined the very thing you denied.”

“I assure you, Constable Morgan, I am quite sane, as I understand the word, perhaps the sanest person in this room, for I suffer from no illusions. I have freed myself, you see, from the pretense that burdens most men. Much like our prey, I do not impose order where there is none; I do not pretend there is any more than what there is, or that you and I are anything more than what we are. That is the essence of their beauty, Morgan, the aboriginal purity of their being, and why I admire them.”

“Awaale cursed softly, but he was smiling. "I am only saying God might have sent me for the little one--not for you.""That makes more sense," I replied. "I was going to kill her, Awaale. The gun was an inch from her head and I was pulling the trigger...""But you did not.""No. I saw he was feeding, and I panicked.""Ah, you mean you were meant to save him.""I am not meant to save anyone!" I snapped. I was suddenly very angry. "I am here to serve the doctor, who's here to serve... to serve science, and that's all. That's all.""Oh, walaalo." He sighed. "You are more pirate than I ever was.”

“But if I'm it, the last of my kind, the last page of human history, like hell I'm going to let the story end this way. I may be the last one, but I am the one still standing. I am the one turning to face the faceless hunter in the woods on an abandoned highway. I am the one not running but facing. Because if I am the last one, then I am humanity. And if this is humanity's last war, then I am the battlefield.”

“You are the nest. You are the hatchling. You are the chrysalis. You are the progeny. You are the rot that falls from stars. You may not understand what I mean. You will.”

“It is a dark and dirty business, Will Henry. And you are well on your way." He patted my knee, not to congratulate, I think, but to console. His tone was sad and bitter. "You are well on your way.”