My life and creative work are justified and completed by Blade Runner.

You're killing yourself with cynicism. Your idols got taken away from you one by one and now you have nothing to give your love to.

But the actual touch of her lingered, inside his heart. That remained. In all the years of his life ahead, the long years without her, with never seeing her or hearing from her or knowing anything about her, if she was alive or happy or dead or what, that touch stayed locked within him, sealed in himself, and never went away. That one touch of her hand.

Fear can make you do more wrong than hate or jealousy... fear makes you always, always hold something back.

Emigrate or Degenerate.

I'd like to see you move up to the goat class, where I think you belong.

My major preoccupation is the question, 'What is reality?'