“As for getting there … it’s a choice between sinning and being tricked by demons It’s a plane of evil … despair … and magic of the foulest kind.”

Demons don’t play by the rules. They lie and they cheat and they stab in the back.

I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but look: Dinosaurs and man, two species separated by sixty-five million years of evolution have just been suddenly thrown back into the mix together. How can we possibly have the slightest idea what to expect?

I only want to sleep . . . and never wake.

Besides… next to giving pain my favourite sport’s to feel it.

Well, the world has changed so radically, and we’re all running to catch up.

Reverse Darwinism: survival of the most idiotic.

I don’t know where hell is … another dimension, perhaps, or another plane of reality.

It hurts! It throbs with pain, the like of which I never felt the half! Mortal flesh would scream again . . . yet demon spirit bids to laugh

Blood is drawn! I am impressed-though my hell-spawned powers will heal it!

How can we possibly have the slightest idea what to expect?

There’s a gap between what I want to do, what I do on camera, and what gets edited. Right? So the goal is to try and close the gaps.

There is only one difference between a long life and a good dinner: that, in the dinner, the sweets come last.

I hold this to be the highest task for a bond between two people: that each protects the solitude of the other.

My brain is like a cross between a colander and a Lazy Susan – thin, slow, and it leaks.

I don’t differentiate between this one sin struggle than any other.

Prayer opens the channel between a soul and God; prayerlessness closes it.

Verbal exchanges between consenting adults in private are as of little interest to me as they probably are to them.

There’s a very distinct difference between a really wonderful DIY label and a soft drink company, or a car company, or a clothing brand, and you will always understand that difference.