They agreed passionately out of the depths of their tormented lives.

We agreed to love each other madly.

This was the price you paid for sleeping together. This was the end of the trap. This was what people got for loving each other.

According to the strange mathematics of the god of mutual affinity, the shadows that clouded their pasts when united became only half as dense instead of darker.

- The World And The Door

And I saw then and there you take a man half-bad and a women half-bad and put their two good halves together and you got one human all good to share between.

They were the only members of their family, and they were both humble, crushed, and thrust aside by life; they were united in sadness and tenderness by a bond of mutual pity and common suffering, borne in secret. With the Kraffts — robust, noisy, brutal, solidly built for living, and living joyously — these two weak, kindly creatures, out of their setting, so to speak, outside life, understood and pitied each other without ever saying anything about it.

They were so close to each other that they preferred death to separation.

Each partner, in fact, shares in the honor and dishonor of the other.

The malicious have a dark happiness.

Getting married is like trading in the adoration of many for the sarcasm of one.

And each one there has one thing shared;
They have sweated beneath the same sun,
Look up in wonder at the same moon,
And wept when it was all done,
For being done too soon.

The couple fell one atop of the other, struck down, finding consolation, at last, in death.

They shared a doom against which virtue was no defense

…in the end you’ll all be locked together, like the poor beasts that get their antlers mixed and are found dead that way, their heads fattened with a knowledge of each other they never wanted, having had to contemplate each other, head-on and eye to eye, until death; well, that will be you and Jenny and Robin.