Think to yourself that every day is your last. The hour to which you do not look forward will come as a welcome surprise. As for me, when you want a good laugh, you will find me in fine state… fat and sleek, a true hog of Epicurus’ herd.

There’s nothing wrong with you… except your hair. Your hair is a train wreck.

Without our imaginations, we’d be like all those other poor dullards. Fear is the price of our instrument. But I can help you bear it.

He’s not keeping the organs as souvenirs, Doctor. He’s eating them.

Remarkable boy. I do admire your courage. I think I’ll eat your heart.