I didn't put you in a prison, Evey. I just showed you the bars.

If I have to have a past, then I prefer it to be multiple choice.

Memory's so treacherous. One moment you're lost in a carnival of delights with poignant childhood aromas, the flashing neon on puberty, all that sentimental candyfloss. The next, it leads you somewhere you don't want to go.. Somewhere dark and cold, filled with the damp ambiguous shapes of things you'd hoped were forgotten.

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.

We're all puppets, Laurie. I'm just a puppet who can see the strings.

I've always wanted to explore characters of all races, all genders, all ages. It just seems to me to be a natural way to approach any kind of storytelling.

It's all a joke! Everything anybody ever valued or struggled for... it's all a monstrous, demented gag! So why can't you see the funny side? Why aren't you laughing?