I’d ruin any day, all my days, for those long nights with you, and I did.

That night was a dark day. Of course, all nights are dark days, because night is simply a badly lit version of day.

So she loved him. She just did immediately and again often and clearly naturally and soundly and obviously and many others.

It was a secret time and place, you next to me, untraceable and out of this world

and what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may in fact be the first steps of a journey.

An apocryphal story - the word "apocryphal" here means "obviously untrue" - tells of two people, long ago, who were very bored, and that instead of complaining about it they sat up all night and invented the game of chess so that everyone else in the world, on evenings when there is nothing to do, can also be bored by the perplexing and tedious game they invented.

When I wrote Rick, I had the idea that I would take the plot of nearly every opera and turn it into a dark film, which is something I still may do.