Was Insanity Really Easier To Accept Than

Why Bother Inflicting Enormous Pain On Yourself When Sooner Or Later Life Would Certainly Get Around To Doing It For You?

Really Now: If You Can't Get Me My Newspaper On Time, How Can You Expect Me To Refrain From Killing People?

Since I Am Not Actually A Real Human Being, My Emotional Responses Are Generally Limited To What I Have Learned To Fake.

And What Did You Do Last Night, Dexter? Oh, I Played With My Dolls While A Friend Chopped Up My Sister.

It's That Moon Again, Slung So Fat And Low In The Tropical Night, Calling Out Across A Curdled Sky And Into The Quivering Ears Of That Dear Old Voice In The Shadows, The Dark Passenger, Nestled Snug In The Backseat Of The Dodge K-car Of Dexter's Hypothetical Soul. That Rascal Moon, That Loudmouthed Leering Lucifer, Calling Down Across The Empty Sky To The Dark Hearts Of The Night Monsters Below, Calling Them Away To Their Joyful Playgrounds.