I didn't get you to do anything. I gave you a name and you made your choice, and that choice was in you before your wife or any of this other stuff. It was always there, waiting. Didn't you use that man to be what you were waiting to become? This thing, your wife, those are just excuses. You think you were Superman, previous? And hey, own it. You think I'd have done less? That's the kind of thing that keeps you out of Heaven. I don't want to go.
[to his wife's rapist] If they don't give you life, I will have every inch of your flesh removed with a cheese grater, starting with your prick. I'll cut off your nose and your lips, your nuts too. And I'll make sure you live. And if they do give you life, I might do it anyway.
[discussing her rape] Maybe he gave me something. Maybe I blocked it out. It's a black hole, an empty space, those four days. And what I remembered when I got... I got in the car. He didn't force me. He didn't even get near me. He called me pretty. I remember... I remember it made me feel... I liked... I got in a van with a stranger. Every time I remember that feeling, that pride, I get sick to my stomach. I could lie to myself, but I felt proud. I was proud that he thought I was pretty. Makes me sick.
