“There was a doorAnd I could not open it. I could not touch the handle.Why could I not walk out of my prison?What is hell? Hell is oneself,Hell is alone, the other figures in itMerely projections. There is nothing to escape fromAnd nothing to Escape to. One is always alone.”

“What is hell? Hell is oneself. Hell is alone, the other figures in it Merely projections. There is nothing to escape from And nothing to escape to. One is always alone.”

“Hell is oneself,Hell is alone.”

“Death was a release, in so many ways. An end to suffering. An escape to something else. What that something else was, I didn’t know. Maybe heaven. Maybe hell. Maybe nothing at all. But I doubted it could be any worse than some of the things I’d seen and done in my lifetime.”

“The noise was deafening, and no one could have heard me anyway as I let out my own battle cry, which I figured was worth a shot. What the hell."I DON'T BELIEVE IN FAERIES!”

“Shakespeare's Iago could be played as a soul in hell, driven, dark and desperate, willing to do anything, willing to use anyone, in order to escape from that hell.”