"And now I haven't a heart, do I? I'm heartless, is that it?"

He wants to vomit. He wants to tear his hair out and puke his guts right there out onto the floor. It's now, in this large spacious office, he takes note of how much taller Alois has grown in comparison to him. Offhandedly, some part of him realizes that it won't be near a month before Alois has his birthday again.

"Maybe I don't want to have a heart anymore! Maybe I'm sick and tired about caring and worrying over others. All it does is make me ill. All it does is make me want to hang myself."

Tiny hands have formed fists then, as he holds them at his sides. Alois' eyes may be damp, but his are ice cold.

"And I don't hate everyone. You hurt me plenty and yet I'm enough of an idiot to ask you to marry me. Maybe I am mad. No, I certainly am."