You really are quite serious, aren't you? Do you ever believe in the fantastical? [He pauses for a moment, scrutinising her briefly. He's fairly certain she's never mentioned dragons, but her response seems to imply that there's a possibility they exist in her world — or at the very least, that she's given thought to their existence. In what is quite possibly one of the more exceptionally boring ways.] The fantasy of fairy tales and children's stories and myths. I can't imagine anything more dull than ruthlessly applying logic to every little thing. [A beat.] Besides, if it lives, it has sentience and intelligence. If it has intelligence, it'll feel the pain the rest of its body feels, even if every head is operated by separate brains; if it goes after itself, I dare
say it'll learn pretty quick that it oughtn't.

—Unless, I suppose, it's capable of being masochistic, but I can't help but think that feelings of sadism and masochism are restricted somewhat to humans. Do you think dragons have their very own Marquis de Sade? It might explain a lot.

[He falls silent for a moment, attention shifting back to the apples. He'd heard about the City's approach to death, and it's not something he wants to dwell on. He'd wondered briefly what it'd mean for Jem if he ever happened to arrive here, before deciding that it wasn't his place to wonder at all.] What should I say — I have immortal longings in me? I'm afraid I'm not quite Cleopatra. No, I think I prefer Samuel Butler's view: to himself everyone is an immortal. He may know that he is going to die, but he can never know that he is dead. I don't need apples for that.