The past can't hurt you anymore, not unless you let it.

With so much chaos, someone will do something stupid. And when they do, things will turn nasty.

It doesn't do you any service to demonize any group of people. It's much better to try and understand from the inside.

Who imprisoned me here? Who keeps me here? Who can release me? Who's controlling and constraining my life except...me?

Ideas, unlike solid structures, do not perish. They remain immortal, immaterial and everywhere, like all Divine things. Ideas are a golden, savage landscape that we wander unaware, without a map. Be careful: in the last analysis, reality may be exactly what we think it is.

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.

Does the human heart know chasms so abysmal?