Forget Them. Burn All, Burn

You Can Make Yourself Happy Or Miserable - It's The Same Amount Of Effort.

Touch A Scientist And You Touch A Child.

Why Then You're As Mad As Me. No, Madder. For I Distrust 'reality' And Its Moron Mother, The Universe, While You Fasten Your Innocence To Fallible Devices Which Pretend At Happy Endings.

When You Reach The Stars, Boy, Yes, And Live There Forever, All The Fears Will Go, And Death Himself Will Die.

Memory Is An Illusion, Nothing More. It Is A Fire That Needs Constant Tending.