"Dance," said the Sheep Man. "Yougottadance. Aslongasthemusicplays. Yougotta dance. Don'teventhinkwhy. Starttothink, yourfeetstop. Yourfeetstop, wegetstuck. Wegetstuck, you'restuck. Sodon'tpayanymind, nomatterhowdumb. Yougottakeepthestep. Yougottalimberup. Yougottaloosenwhatyoubolteddown. Yougottauseallyougot. Weknowyou're tired, tiredandscared. Happenstoeveryone, okay? Justdon'tletyourfeetstop."

I happen to like the strange ones. People who look normal and leads normal lives - they're the ones you have to watch out for.

Learning another language is like becoming another person.

I stare at this ceaseless, rushing crowd and imagine a time a hundred years from now. In a hundred years everybody here-me included-will have disappeared from the face of the earth and turned into ashes or dust. A weird thought, but everything in front of me starts to seem unreal, like a gust of wind could blow it all away.

Music brings a warm glow to my vision, thawing mind and muscle from their endless wintering.

If you're in pitch blackness, all you can do is sit tight until your eyes get used to the dark.

I'm not human. I'm a piece of machinery. I don't need to feel a thing. Just forge on ahead.