All the mortal world is a lethal enemy during those hours between dawn and dusk.

Maybe that's what Hell is. You go mad. And all your demons come and get you just as fast as you can think them up.

Paris was a universe whole and entire unto herself, hollowed and fashioned by history; so she seemed in this age of Napoleon III with her towering buildings, her massive cathedrals, her grand boulevards and ancient winding medieval streets - as vast and indestructible as nature itself.

Garden of Pain, I need you. What were the songs of beasts to the cries of sentient souls?

When I'm writing, the darkness is always there. I go where the pain is.

We breathe the light, we breathe the music, we breathe the moment as it passes through us.

I wasn't sent here to find angels! I wasn't sent here to dream of them. I wasn't sent here to hear them sing! I was sent here to be alive. To breathe and sweat and thirst and sometimes cry.