They tried stoning me, my dear. It did not work.

I'm a picker, I'm a grinner, I'm a lover and I'm a sinner. I play my music in the sun.

Without grace there is no hope, but with it there is no shortage.

They tried stoning me, my dear. It did not work.

Love means never having to say you're sorry. However, it is with sincere regret that I must now kill all of you.

It is said that blood is thicker than water. It is what joins us, binds us, curses us.

For most men, time moves slowly, oh so slowly, they don't even realize it. But time has revealed itself to me in a very special way. Time is a rushing, howling wind that rages past me, withering me in a single, relentless blast, and then continues on. I've been sitting here passively, submissive to its rage, watching its work. Listen! Time, howling, withering!