Prisons! Prisons! Prisons, dungeons, blessed places where evil is impossible since they are the crossroads of all the malediction in the world. One cannot commit evil in evil.

I recognize in thieves, traitors and murderers, in the ruthless and the cunning, a deep beauty - a sunken beauty.

Betrayal is beautiful.

The vaporish cocaine loosens the contours of their lives and sets their bodies adrift, and so they are untouchable.

Repudiating the virtues of your world, criminals hopelessly agree to organize a forbidden universe. They agree to live in it. The air there is nauseating. They can breathe it.

Power may be at the end of a gun, but sometimes it's also at the end of the shadow or the image of a gun.

Though they may not always be handsome men doomed to evil posses the manly virtues.