Can you tell me which is better; burning out or fading away, because Turks never live long enough to do either. Burnouts fade away, when you're a Turk, burnouts drift away, because if you burn, you turn to ash. There is no mental breakdown for us; we're already insane.

Say goodnight, baby, because you're about to go to sleep forever.

It won't hurt a bit.

Kiss of death, what the fuck is that supposed to mean, I ask you that. I never kiss and kill, too much guilt, too much mess. Better to fuck and run, better to kill and get drunk, better better better.

Sometimes I think I'm sane, and the rest of the world's sick. And then a remember who I am, what I am, and the world snaps back into shape again.

Do not, they whispered, disturb a Turk.

We are disturbed enough.