He Wasn't Perfect, But He Was Perfect

It Was Maddening How Your Best Friend Could Twist The Knobs Inside Of You So Much That It Hurt.

I Haven't Paid For Anything Since I Became Famous.

Maybe She'd Been Drinking Too Much Of The Super-sweet Mexican Coca-cola They Had Down Here. Or Maybe She Was Just Tired, Alone, And Far From Home. Because Somewhere In The Brittle, Concrete Center Of Azrael's Dark Heart, Something Was Melting.

Maybe Weakness Is A Strength Of A Kind.

Love. It's So Close To Hate, It's Almost Indistinguishable. But This Is How It Was For The Two Of Them. Love And Hate. Life And Death. Joy And Anguish.