“He that is the author of war lets loose the whole contagion of hell and opens a vein that bleeds a nation to death.”

“Only when you slice your soul open and let it bleed and bleed and bleed will you finally see your passion.”

“Take stock, citizen bacillus,Now that there are so many billions of you,Bleeding through your opened veins,Into your bathtub, or into the PacificOf that by which they may remember you.”

“Carry me back to land, Goldilocks, or cry havoc and let loose the slithering Dobermans of war!”

“And the thought of that makes me want to open a vein, experience pain, know I'm alive, despite this living death.”

“He kissed back, all the pages spread out around us like riddles waiting to be solved. Let them wait. Let my genes unravel, my hinges come loose. If my fate rests in the hands of a madman, let death come and bring its worse. I'll take the ruined craters of laboratories, the dead trees, this city with ashes in the oxygen, if it means freedom. I'd sooner die here than live a hundred years with wires in my veins.”