Anna Taylor: I thought when you died you wouldn't feel any more pain. You wouldn't have struggles any more. But it just never stops, does it?
Eliot Deacon: I thought you were different. You all say you're scared of death, but the truth is you're more scared of life.
Eliot Deacon: You're a corpse. Your opinion doesn't count anymore.
Anna Taylor: Can I ask you a question?
Eliot Deacon: Yes, of course.
Anna Taylor: Why do we die?
Eliot Deacon: To make life important.
Eliot Deacon: Oh I nearly forgot. How tall are you?
Anna Taylor: Why?
Eliot Deacon: I need to know your height. For your coffin.
Eliot Deacon: The others? They just see you as a dead body on a slab. Only I can see you as you really are.
Eliot Deacon: It's for.
Jack: Ms. Taylor?
Eliot Deacon: Exactly. For Anna. She belongs here.
Jack: Because she's dead?
Eliot Deacon: No, because there's no life left in her.
Jack: What do you mean?
Eliot Deacon: Don't you see? I'm the only one that can see all these corpses wandering around aimlessly. All they do is piss and shit, suffocating us with their stench, doing nothing with their lives, taking the air away from those that actually want to live. I have to bury them all. I have no choice.
Eliot Deacon: I thought you were different. You all say you're scared of death, but the truth is you're more scared of life.
Anna Taylor: I'm glad I'm dead. I'm glad it's over.
