[...] My wild words slip into fusion and risk losing the solid ground. So stranger, get wilder still. Probe the highlands.

The spectator is a dying animal.

Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light? Or just another lost angel... City of Night?

This is the strangest life I've ever known.

We hide ourselves in our music to reveal ourselves

I believe in a long, prolonged, derangement of the senses in order to obtain the unknown.

The time you wait subtracts the joy The heads the angel you destroy