Character: Niklaus "Klaus" Mikaelson

- Hello, darling.
- Who is this?
- Auč. Has it been so long?
- Klaus...

You are fighting for her, for Frei, the daughter she barely knew. I have long believed my son. Until came the disappointment, the revelation of betrayal. There was a time when you had to do was be a father to me! But even then you despise me, don't you? I want to know why.
I do not know. Just, happened.
Is your last words.

- Maybe it's because I'm pure evil and nothing can be done about it?
- No, it's because you're hurt... which means that there's a part of you that is human.
How can you possibly think that?
- Because I see it.

I wanted a family, but the family didn't want me.

I don't know how to say "goodbye."
- You should try it. One of you will get up, approach the door and not turn back, even if the heart will beg for one glance, one moment. But you know, not glancing back, you thus say, "I'll never forget you".

- What if nothing? No rest. Only darkness.
We will meet her together. As always.

- What if nothing? No rest. Only darkness.
We will meet her together. As always.

We have for centuries taken up over the fate. And now I'm not going to give up.

Not all are worthy of immortality.

I had to be there for you and hope. But, I was scared all the time. This family is? We curse each other and for our home. And I know she needs me. I see it now. But my love for her leads to her death. And I want her to live. Want it grew up. I want her to love. And that she was a strong and beautiful woman like her mother. I don't know what to do. I wish you were here to tell me. My wolf.

There is a big difference between "no" and "not worth it".

- The purpose of art is to portray life as it is. When the world is happy, the art should reflect this beauty, but when our existence is surrounded by unrest, humiliation, hyperinflation, shame, reparations, art must be equally monotonous and ugly.
- Or perhaps August that ugliness is the result of the fact that the artist has no talent. The purpose of art is to awaken the primitive in us, to rekindle our passion, to provoke our understanding. And that should inspire us for a drink and a fight and to "let our sensual race will."

I had to understand that the fathers bear the pain. No matter they are present or not. Is this the type of devastation that can leave only the father. You were such a wonderful baby. Maybe I was doomed to isranet you.
- You think I'm wounded? Maybe you're right. May be the baby that you so badly missed, will be better off without you and not love you at all.

- Thank you for not leaving me.
We thought about it. One vote is not enough.