But it's love that does us in.

“You're dead, Cordelia.'No I'm not.'Yes you are. You're dead.Lie down.”

“I don’t even close my eyes. Out there or inside my head, it’s an equal darkness…”

“But what is a memorial, when you come right down to it, but a commemoration of …”

“What fabrications they are, mothers. Scarecrows, wax dolls for us to stick pins…”