Please, don't go. It's lonely. There's a hole in my head as big as the world and it's so very lonely.

Well, what do you expect? The Comedian is dead.

Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose.

Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot... But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament.

LSD was an incredible experience. Not that I’m recommending it for anybody else; but for me it kind of – it hammered home to me that reality was not a fixed thing. That the reality that we saw about us every day was one reality, and a valid one – but that there were others, different perspectives where different things have meaning that were just as valid. That had a profound effect on me.

Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends.

There is no coincidence. Only the illusion of coincidence.