There is a man, playing a violin, and the strings are the nerves in his own arm.

If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them.

There is a man, playing a violin, and the strings are the nerves in his own arm.

We do not recognize our souls until they are in pain.

Funboy: Pal, something is seriously wrong with you. The Crow: Atrocity has that effect on me.

If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.

It's not death if you refuse it... It is if you accept it.