Betrayal Is Beautiful.

My Heart's In My Hand, And My Hand Is Pierced, And My Hand's In The Bag, And The Bag Is Shut, And My Heart Is Caught.

Perhaps All Music, Even The Newest, Is Not So Much Something Discovered As Something That Re-emerges From Where It Lay Buried In The Memory, Inaudible As A Melody Cut In A Disc Of Flesh. A Composer Lets Me Hear A Song That Has Always Been Shut Up Silent Within Me.

Every Premeditated Murder Is Always Governed By A Preparatory Ceremonial And Is Always Followed By A Propitiatory Ceremonial. The Meaning Of Both Eludes The Murderers Mind.

Love Makes Use Of The Worst Traps. The Least Noble. The Rarest. It Exploits Coincidence.

One Can Hear All That's Going On In The Street. Which Means That From The Street One Can Hear What's Going On In This House.