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Do you ever think of how many times
you and I have technically died?
You were buried underground for centuries, choked out by a sin
eater, buried again by a tree.
Trapped in purgatory, your jaunt to 1781,
abandoned in ancient catacombs, you
have endured much, Lieutenant.
I can endure anything.
It's the losses.
They wear me down, my mom, Corbin.
My wife, my son, I prefer to focus on what we have,
and I have a partner of the highest caliber.
Better than Betsy Ross?
Well, she was occasionally rather pushy, prone to talking
with a mouthful of food.
George Washington?
Well, now, there was a great man, but a great man
with legendary halitosis.
I really beat those guys?
Oh, handily.
You never waver in your faith, and what we do,
and me, you know how rare that is, don't you?
When it concerns you and me, Lieutenant,
there is no greater certainty.