Bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together, sittin’ around the table at Sunday dinner and the happily ever after. No. Doesn’t work like that, Rick. Not anymore.
Why people in this world hate what is not them. Why they fear all they don’t know. Why they hate themselves most of all. For being weak. For being old. For being everything altogether that is not God-like.
I’ve made my choice. It may be wicked, it may mean I go to a fiery and horrible place when I die, but it’s too late to stop now. I will not stop. I’m going to win or die confronting the Master. I will not fade away as a weak old man.