The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later.

War is a perversion of sex.

Every film is a remake of a previous film, or a remake of a television series that everyone loved in the 1960s, or a remake of a television series that everyone hated in the 1960s. Or it's a theme park ride; it will soon come to breakfast cereal mascots.

Anarchy wears two faces, both Creator and Destroyer. Thus Destroyers topple empires; make a canvas of clean rubble where creators can then build a better world. Rubble, once achieved makes further ruins' means irrelevant. Away with our explosives, then! Away with our Destroyers! They have no place within our better world. But let us raise a toast to all our bombers, all our bastards, most unlovely and most unforgivable, let's drink their health, then meet with them no more.

American love — like coke in green glass bottles...they don't make it anymore.

I live my life free of compromise, and step into the shadows without complaint or regret.

Nothing's that simple, not even things that are simply awful.