In a thousand years, when I’ve all but forgotten how to love yet again, you’ll flit back into my heart, and I’ll weep, wondering what happened to my mad love.

Go on. Give the worgs some Booze! They'll love it.

I have witnessed dar too much, and you have given me too little. Finally, I can see.

Not what will happen - what will you do. Your past is not yet lost. Your future is not yet fixed.

Fine, I guess I'll just stay here and eat dirt or whatever.