“I used to be a little boySo old in my shoesAnd what i choose is my choiceWhat's a boy supposed to do?The killer in me is the killer in youMy loveI send this smile over to you”

“The Little Boy and the Old ManSaid the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."Said the old man, "I do that too."The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."I do that too," laughed the little old man.Said the little boy, "I often cry."The old man nodded, "So do I."But worst of all," said the boy, "it seemsGrown-ups don't pay attention to me."And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.I know what you mean," said the little old man.”

“I wept heartily over this poor little deceased soul. It was the first sentient being I had ever killed. I was now a killer. I was now as guilty as Cain. I was sixteen years old, a harmless boy, bookish and religious, and now I had blood on my hands. It's a terrible burden to carry. All sentient life is sacred.”

“Over time, I have come to believe that there is a killer and a saint in all of us. But...I choose to focus on the future and the *potential* in people.”

“One serial killer sends me a human head in a box, and I get all spooked; Go figure.”

“The old-fashioned bravado started pissing me off. I pierced my lips together as my nostrils flared. Over 100 years old and boys will still be boys. I hoped for a little bit more maturity.”