[ it's klaus' turn to not look away. he cannot, hearing the subtleties of her confession. he wonders who — what — how — why. to know clementine knows even a fraction of that rage and pain sobers him. he knows what he would do to protect her. it doesn't soften the heavy truth of what he says next; it necessitates it. ] We hurt everything we touch. [ all those he has loved and hated and hardly cared for in a thousand years have suffered his wrath. his pain.

he pauses, leans forward, and with different gravity, he adds, ] But most of all, we hurt ourselves. [ and that is what matters. that is what she doesn't deserve. ] That is the greatest violence. That's where it starts.