“Look at yourself and feel. You’re furious, you hate, you want to see the miscreant dangle by the neck, die, suffer, don’t you? Because you, like us, loved the woman who sat there. So the mother of your hatred is love, Bjørn. And it’s love, not hatred, that makes you willing to do whatever it takes, go to any lengths to get your hands on the guilty party.”
“As for me, I’m not at all afraid of dying. Isn’t it strange? That you can lose something so fundamentally human as the fear of dying. Of course, it’s partly to do with the desire to live, but only partly. Many people spend their whole lives somewhere they don’t want to be out of fear that the alternative is worse. Isn’t that sad?”