“Shall I take them? Shall I wrench them away and gut them apart one by one?” “I don’t know what I am without them,” she admitted. “I don’t know what I am without the violence.” “You’re Silene. My beautiful Silene with the gentlest, kindest hands. It wasn’t the violence that made you gentle, my ruin, it wasn’t the violence that softened you. You were kind and soft and gentle despite it. You won over all. In spite of all, you won. They could not change you, nor your heart—your kind, gentle heart. And what they could not change they hurt. So let me take it away. Let me rip apart those memories
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