In his depraved mind, power would be the inability to connect with anyone. It would mean rising above the need for affection, for human touch.

The internet has eliminated so much wonder and romance.

If Van Gogh were walking around, everyone would run away because he had no ear, but if he was holding his paintings they would be nice to him. She's holding her paintings and she's good at it.

Love is hands, holding you.

Being alive is nothing without being able to live.

It's a pathetic thing, hope, hard to kill.