Catching sight of himself in the long mirrors that ran along the walls, he stiffened in shock. . . His eyes were surrounded by black shadows, his shirt smeared with dried blood and filthy mud. . . "Admiring yourself?" The Inquisitor's voice cut through his reverie. "You won't look so pretty when the Clave gets through with you. " "You do seem obsessed with my look. . . Could it be that you're attracted to me?" "Don't be revolting. . . You could be my son.
Know who you are, because that's how you will be cast at first. Then you can be Meryl Streep further down the road.