The world is an inferno. It will burn until every nation has fallen, until all who oppose us are dead, until people see the true light.

Knackered inmates are easier to control than pumped-up ones. And dead inmates are even easier to control, if you follow me.

Don't need a degree in rocket science to do this job.

The human mind is a powerful thing in many ways, but in others it's endlessly fragile—it takes only a single moment of pure terror to tear a hole in it, like a finger through a cobweb, leaving you forever just a shadow, a half-person.

Like I've said before, so many times before, I'm not a good person, I'm not a hero. I'm a criminal, a liar, a cheat, a killer. It was them or me and I wanted to live.

As soon as reality breaks, as soon as we're separated from the phsical world, the cracks begin to appear in our minds. And through them seeps the madness that has always been there, flowing into your skull like a liquid nightmare.

This place is full of unwritten rules.