"I don't know how to be what you see in me." He sounds... tired. He sounds his three hundred years, and then some. And now he's made his beautiful boy cry, because he can't love himself the way Alfred loves him.

"The graveyard is filled with headstones to honour those I've killed. Out of bloodlust. Out of the inability to control this insatiable hunger that gnaws at me day and night. I look inside myself and see nothing but blackness. A vast pit of nothingness. I can cover it up well enough with posturing and bravado but in the end I am... nothing."