[She... really hit it on the head, didn't she? Karkat's head tips forward as his hand rises up, until face meets mitten in holy union.]

Fuck me with the gaudy end of my own staff. I really am a cleric, aren't I? I am that pathetic asshole that loves his team even when I wish I could strangle them with their own severed brain stems.

[But what she says--it makes sense. And sure, Karkat has more than his share of moments where the doubt is ridiculous in its consuming nature, but he keeps coming back, for the team, for the people he cares about.]

Because if you give up you're going to die like the sorriest cullbait to ever fetch up outside the caverns, right? Just go with me on that, it's a troll thing. But if that's the thing you call faith, then--yeah, I can manage that. If I have to pull it out my own ass I will find it somewhere.

Is that everything? And don't do the sarcasm thing again.