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".... But if they lose, we will not kill them, not all of them. No, those who do not die in the fighting will live to see their world turn to ash. We will take proud young men and turn them into broken old men staring at a world already past in the reflection of their bitter ale. We will make beggars of their women and children, and in our charity we will take them. Their women will eagerly warm the beds of our soldiers for they will provide more than broken old men, and their children will be raised as our own. Because we are good people. Because we are good people we will leave them howling impotently in the dark and the cold, broken and shattered, the name of the god forgotten to the sands of history and comment on how we were kind enough not to kill them all."—Tricia, The Open Door
This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, forever:"If you make everything leave a man then you have destroyed him and his will to fight. There will be anger and hatred, but much of it will turn inward."—Lars, The Open Door
You can hear yourself breathing. It comes hard, and harsh, and it scrapes nerves already raw, but you cannot stop it. You can never stop it. You cannot even slow it down. You don't even have lungs anymore. Mechanisms hardwired into your chest breathe for you. They will pump oxygen into your bloodstream forever. As you try to speak, another voice speaks for you, out from the vocabulator that serves you for burned-away lips and tongue and throat.
"Padme? Are you here? Are you all right?"
"I'm very sorry, Lord Vader. I'm afraid that in your anger, you killed her."
"No... no, it's not possible!" You loved her. You could never will her death.
But you remember…You remember all of it.
You remember the dragon that you brought Vader forth from your heart to slay. You remember the cold venom in Vader's blood. You remember the furnace of Vader's fury, and the black hatred of seizing her throat to silence her lying mouth—And there is one blazing moment in which you finally understand that there was no dragon. That there was no Vader. That there was only you. Only Anakin Skywalker.
That it was all you. Is you.
Only you. You did it. You killed her.
You killed her because, finally, when you could have saved her, when you could have gone away with her, when you could have been thinking about her, you were thinking about yourself. It is in this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith—because now yourself is all you will ever have.
And you rage and scream and reach through the Force to crush the shadow who has destroyed you, but you are so far less now than what you were- you are more than half machine, you are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was but the power you can touch is only a memory, and so with all your world-destroying fury it is only droids around you that implode, and equipment, and the table on which you were strapped shatters, and in the end, you cannot touch the shadow.
In the end, you do not even want to. In the end, the shadow is all you have left. Because the shadow understands you, the shadow forgives you, the shadow gathers you unto itself.
This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker…Forever. The long night has begun.
- A detailed look at Darth Vader's first moments, Revenge of the Sith novelization
"Don't push me""I'm trying not to lose my head..."
"Cuz I'm close to the edge."
—Grandmaster Flash and the Furious 5
"The gods of Olympus have abandoned me. There is no hope."—Kratos, God of War
"I have taught you many ways to kill a mortal, Kratos; flesh that burns, bones that break. But to break a man's spirit, is to truly destroy him!"—Ares, God of War
That little boy quit trying.If nobody believed in you.
He just walked away.
There were teardrops on his face.
Tell me, how would you feel?
You'd probably give up too,
—Joe Nichols, "If Nobody Believed In You"
"Stood in firelight, sweltering. Bloodstain on chest like map of violent new continent. Felt cleansed. Felt dark planet turn under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in night. Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else. Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us. Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world. Was Rorschach. Does that answer your questions, Doctor?"—Rorschach, Watchmen
"It wasn't just the baby that died that day; something inside Sick Boy was lost and never returned. It seemed that he had no theory with which to explain a moment like this. Nor did I. Our only response was to keep on going and fuck everything: pile misery upon misery, heap it up on a spoon and dissolve it with a drop of bile, then squirt it into a stinking, prurient vein and do it all over again; keep on going, getting up, going out, robbing, stealing, fucking people over, propelling ourselves with longing towards the day that it would all go wrong, because no matter how much you stash, or how much you steal, you never have enough. No matter how often you go out and rob and fuck people over, you always need to get up and do it all over again."—Renton, Trainspotting
"It's over. Everything, I did everything wrong. I want my life back. I want it back before everything got fucked up. I want to be a baby again. I want to be new. I want to be new."—Susan Orlean, Adaptation
"I went into the bathroom and cried my eyes out. The whole affair had been an elaborate hoax! The two of them probably planned the whole thing just to get back at me. I was devastated, crushed out of any hope. I had nothing to live for. But if I wasn't ever going to be happy again, then I would make sure that they wouldn't be alive to enjoy their happiness."—Hikaru Hayama, Revenge Road
"My name is Oerba Dia Vanille. I'm a L'Cie, from Gran Pulse, and to everyone on Cocoon, evil. Shoot me! For your son!"—Vanille from Final Fantasy XIII
"Why don't they just drown us as infants? Why give us the illusion of hope?"—First Enchanter Orsino, Dragon Age II
Cynder: Fight back!...Why won't you fight back!Spyro: ...Because you've left me nothing to fight for...
—The Legend of Spyro Trilogy After Malefor turns Spyro's girlfriend Cynder against him.
...doesn't really care about anything anymore.—Appears in the profile of any sufficiently traumatized character in Dwarf Fortress.
Someday for sure, I will bring death upon her.—Part of Yuyuko's final entry in her diary, Touhou Tonari.
There was a time I could see. And I have seen... boys like these - younger even - their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there is nothing like the sight of an amputated spirit. There is no prosthetic for that.—Colonel Slade, Scent of a Woman
"They... They fucking killed her! Oh, Xiu..."—Lynch, Kane&Lynch:Dog Days