— May I ask why you felt little Tiffany deserved to die?
— She was the only one that seemed dangerous.
— How'd you figure that?
— I was gonna pop this guy hanging from the light... but he's just working out. How'd I feel if somebody bust my ass while I'm on the treadmill? Then I saw this snarling beast. I noticed he had a tissue in his hand and realized... he's not snarling, he's sneezing. Ain't no threat there. Then I saw Tiffany. 8-year-old white girl, middle of the ghetto... bunch of monsters at night with quantum physics books? She about to start some shit. Those books are way too advanced for her. If you ask me, she's up to something.

— I mean, would you not die for love? After all, what is life if it does not have love?
— Nothing, according to you poets.
— You are... I've always believed that a woman should be intelligent enough to understand what I'm saying, but not intelligent enough to be able to form ideas or opinions of her own. You, Miss Godwin, have the chance to prove me wrong.