I said it helps, not that it's perfect.

I'm not really one to talk about having a life outside the Chantry, of course, but you're damn right the booths get cramped. [He once had to confess in one that the width of his shoulders had prevented from closing all the way. Nobody else in line behind him had looked him in the eye for days afterward.]

I'd want to go out fighting a dragon, or some such. But I suppose I could do that any time, if I just wanted guaranteed death.