You got shook and shook till there was nothing left. You lost your name and your body and your self and you just didn't care.

The sweetest and most heavenly of activities partake in some measure of violence - the act of love, for instance; music, for instance. You must take your chance, boy. The choice has been all yours.

The thrill of theft, of violence, the urge to live easy - is it worth it when we have undeniable proof, yes, yes, incontrovertible evidence that hell exists?

Well, everything's a lesson, isn't it? Learning all the time, as you could say.

You have no cause to grumble boy. You made your choice and all this is a consequence of your choice. Whatever now ensues is what you yourself have chosen.

And yet, in a sense, in choosing to be deprived of the ability to make an ethical choice, you have in a sense really chosen the good.

What does God want? Does God want goodness or the choice of goodness? Is a man who chooses the bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has the good imposed upon him?

The intention to act violently is accompanied by strong feelings of physical distress.

You can viddy that everything in this wicked world counts. You can pony that one thing always leads to another. Right right right.