“...Jane remained in her chair thinking about justice, about how the dead never benefited from it. For them it always comes too late.”
“Now we sit and wait,” the woman said, and she settled into a chair, the gun on her lap.“What are we waiting for?” Jane asked.The woman stared at her. Said, calmly: “The end.”
“The dead do not hurt you; only the living do.”
“Maybe it's because I can't have him that I feel safe wanting him. He's beyond my reach, so he won't hurt me.”
“If you don't love him, if you don't even care about him, then seeing him now shouldn't be all that painful. Should it?”
“You don't have to die to go to hell.”