Open the door.

You might well put the key in your pocket--and I have been so ill.

I have suffered so much--it is dreadful"-- and she fell into a fit of hysterical weeping.
John waited patiently until she had sobbed herself quiet, then he continued, "When I think of my sons or daughters, _written down in God's Book_ and blotted out by _you_." "I will not listen.

You are mad.

Your 'sons or daughters' could not be hurt by anyone before they had life." "They always had life.