Greed's the best.
Don't argue right and wrong with me, okay? It's what feels good and feels bad. Make sense? Good.
Dreams, you asked about once, if they were reality, or said something important. Bull. They don't have to make any sort of weird human sense. They're dreams. Go fish.
What else do you want? I want everything. Simple answers, now, don't be greedy.
Why are you laughing? At me? Boy! Hey, I do want everything, from women to booze to sex to men to food, oh god, food. If some burnt trash a raggedy doll of a cook can swing at me makes me feel like the after-kill, then make more. Food's great. I love it. I can hump it, for god's sake, and it'll still be what it's supposed to be. A few hundred years and food doesn't get boring, but the people just get stupid, and that's no fun.
Stop laughing, you little glutton, you eat as much as me.
Eh, philosophy, alchemy, religion, what's the difference. They're all dead. I want to learn alchemy, though, because I can't. What about that neat hand-clapping thing? I gave it a try. It doesn't work for me. Damn special bastards.
Whatever. I can't shoot them and get them to laugh. Humans are so squishy and crunchy. I'm hard, all over, or I can be in a second. And ooh, human lips, wonderful, aren't they? Makes me want to ease right into another's skin and break their hips, ribs, and rip that pretty red mouth's skin.
Hey, do you think the Nest smells weird today? Let's get some potpourri. Or whores. I want to go out. Where's the good food and women?
Shut up, boy, and teach me alchemy. Basic knowledge, right? What, you're stupid? Get out. Wait. One more thing I should show you: death--I want it. Want to see? It's interesting, I promise you. I want everything, but there's never enough of anything to go around except for death. Come closer.
C'mon, don't cry now, aren't you a big boy yet? Mm, a new head and with it, a new mouth, see? It lets me have a bit of a different taste for the first tasting. I'm the best, kid, I'm the best.