In the big factory of perfecting human souls, the Earth was kind of tumbler. The sale as the kind people use to polish rocks. All souls come here to rub the sharp edges off each other. This isn't suffering. It's erosion.

Let's all embrace someone near us. Pick someone special to you. Tell this someone how you feel.

I'm only confrontational with my friends.

Generations have been working in jobs they hate, just so they can buy what they don't really need.

We opened our hearts. Hear me, heal me, save me, believe me.

Imagine how you’d feel if your whole life turned into a job you couldn’t stand.

Think of spoiled cat food and ulcerated cankers and expired donor organs. That's how beautiful she looks.