I was cold and you were fire, and I never knew how the pyre could be burning on the edge of an ice field.

You took the words right out of my mouth, it must have been while you were kissing me.

I'm tired of words and I'm too hoarse to shout.

I don't have a rock voice. I have to force it. I am like an opera singer.

A wasted youth is better by far than a wise and productive old age.

As most people know, I am a vampire, so I have no reflection. Every day, I paste a picture of someone else on the mirror.

Nothing ever grows in this rotting old hole.