The feet of a young ballet dancer, who ended her life when she lost her ambition. These legs... walked the streets. You remember the hooker who was killed in ER by her pimp last week? Think of all the bodies these legs have wrapped around. What was the value of her life, to end up being picked apart by the likes of Dr. Graves and his bumbling students? And here, the womb of the virgin, struck down before tasting the pleasures of life, you remember? Her skin, so soft, so warm, but so cold in death. The arms of the waitress. The lawyers hand - case dismissed. Look at this delicate piece, what do you think? A sculptress? A harpist? Would you believe, a murderess? But they're all equal now, nothing but cast off remnants of a meaningless existence.
The granting of a pardon is an imputation of guilt, and the acceptance a confession of it.
