I thought what if death is more like thinking, well, war is like the boss at your shoulder, constantly wanting more, wanting more, wanting more, and then that gave me the idea that Death is weary, he's fatigued, and he's haunted by what he sees humans do to each other because he's on hand for all of our great miseries.

I guess if editing doesn't hurt, you're probably not doing it properly. I find it quite difficult. The hardest part is believing that it's actually working and getting rid of the doubt that always creeps in.

I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.

Have you ever noticed that idiots have a lot of friends? It's just an observation.

It would then be brought abruptly to an end, for the brightness had shown suffering the way.

The bombs were coming-and so was I.

I'm gonna hunt my life down and grab it.