— Не понимаю, как вы, люди, выживаете: никаких мышц, хрупкие кости... — Ты не сильно от нас отличаешься... Как же ты выжила? — Ломаные кости потом крепче.
A million roads, a million fears A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty I could speak a million lies, a million songs, A million rights, a million wrongs in this balance of time But if there was a single truth, a single light A single thought, a singular touch of grace Then following this single point, this single flame, This single haunted memory of your face