Jesteśmy społecznością, która kocha książki

Może Rozpacz to coś, co przychodzi po Nadziei, ale Nadzieja wciąż istnieje. Prawda? Gdy nie ma Nadziei, równie dobrze można umrzeć.

I WAS TOLD TO SAY WHATEVER WAS IN MY HEART.
AND I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT HOW HE WAS MY BOSS, AND HOW HE GAVE ME A SECOND CHANCE, AND HOW HE TRUSTED ME.
ABOUT HOW SOMETIMES HE TREATED ME LIKE HE THOUGHT I WAS AN IDIOT, AND SOMETIMES TREATED ME LIKE HE WAS MY BOSS, AND SOMETIMES--VERY OCCASIONALLY--TREATED ME LIKE A FRIEND.
I WAS GOING TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT HOW HE DIED.
AND ABOUT THAT WAS WHAT I WANTED TO DO TOO.
BUT THAT ISN'T WHAT'S IN MY HEART. NOT REALLY.
HE WAS THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE WORLD TO ME, AND HE'S GONE.
...
WHAT'S IN MY HEART?
A LOT OF SORROW. A LITTLE REGRET.
AND THE MEMORY OF THE COOLEST, STRANGEST, MOST INFURIATING BOSS... FRIEND... BOSS... I EVER HAD.
THAT'S WHAT.

BUT WE DO NOT NEED TO RECOUNT EVERY SERMON AND EULOGY. AFTER ALL, YOU WERE THERE. YOU MAY HAVE FORGOTTEN, IN YOUR WAKING HOURS, WHAT YOU HEARD THAT DAY--
BUT YOU WILL REMEMBER IT, IN THE SOFT, LOST, SLUMBERING MOMENTS BETWEEN WAKING AND TRUE SLEEP:
...
THEY WILL HAUNT YOUR SLEEP UNTIL YOU DIE.

I DON'T KNOW... DEATH'S A FUNNY THING.
I USED TO THINK IT WAS A BIG, SUDDEN THING, LIKE A HUGE OWL THAT WOULD SWOOP DOWN OUT OF THE NIGHT AND CARRY YOU OFF.
I DON'T ANYMORE.
I THINK IT'S A SLOW THING. LIKE A THIEF WHO COMES TO YOUR HOUSE DAY AFTER DAY, TAKING A LITTLE THING HERE AND A LITTLE THING THERE, AND ONE DAY YOU WALK ROUND YOUR HOUSE AND THERE'S NOTHING THERE TO KEEP YOU, NOTHING TO MAKE YOU WANT TO STAY.

Ale nie da się zabić snów, nie tak naprawdę.

Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.
Wszystko się zmienia, lecz nic nie zatraca.

WELL, THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY TO END A STORY, REALLY.
DON'T TELL ME: THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER?
THAT'S THE ONE.

MATTHEW. THERE WAS NOTHING YOU COULD HAVE DONE.
I COULD HAVE DIED. I COULD HAVE DIED WHEN THE OTHERS DIED. I COULD HAVE DIED BY HIS SIDE.

There. They are awake. All but one...
... AND THEN,
FIGHTING TO STAY ASLEEP,
WISHING IT WOULD GO ON FOR EVER,
SURE THAT ONCE THE DREAM WAS OVER, IT WOULD NEVER COME BACK,
... YOU WOKE UP.

BUT THE ENGLISH OUTLAWED THE SLAVE TRADE.
EVENTUALLY. AND IT GOT WORSE WHEN THEY DID. I MEAN, YOU ONLY NEEDED ONE VOYAGE IN THREE TO MAKE A PROFIT. SO YOU COULD AFFORD TO DUMP YOUR CARGO TWO OUT OF THREE TIMES, IF THE WEATHER GOT TOO BAD, OR IF YOU SPOTTED A BRITISH MAN O' WAR...
YOU THROW THE FIRST FEW OVERBOARD. THEY WERE ALL CHAINED TOGETHER, SO THE REST OF THEM FOLLOWED... I HAVE DREAMS ABOUT THAT, GWEN. THE FACES UNDER THE WATER...

LUCIEN? WHY DID IT HAPPEN? WHY DID HE LET IT HAPPEN?
LET IT, MATTHEW? I THINK HE DID A LITTLE MORE THAN LET IT HAPPEN...
CHARITABLY... I THINK... SOMETIMES, PERHAPS, ONE MUST CHANGE OR DIE.
AND, IN THE END, THERE WERE, PERHAPS, LIMITS TO HOW MUCH HE COULD LET HIMSELF CHANGE.