Those monsters in your closets and under your beds? They are just as real as us. The difference is that we fear what we don't understand, while they understand exactly, what we fear.
You are mad, Malloreigh!_ It is an odd thing to have madness call you mad. Makes you think for a moment that you are sane, but also makes you think that it is truly sane. My mind hurts. I stopped thinking. I painted.
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You are mad, Malloreigh!_ It is an odd thing to have madness call you mad. Makes you think for a moment that you are sane, but also makes you think that it is truly sane. My mind hurts. I stopped thinking. I painted.
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These streets belong to us because we decided not to punch the time clock. We decided to see what and f*ck is going on out here when all those other people are going to sleep. So we walk from dusk until dawn and we rule.
Magic is a naughty beast.
To feel our character, our personality, and our personal, hard-won history fade from being is to be exposed to whatever lies beneath these comforting, operational conveniences. What remains when the conscious and functioning self has been erased is mankind's fundamental condition _ irrational, violent, guilt-wracked, despairing, and mad.
Walk with this tomorrow night. If nothing happens, thendon__ come back. Forget about us, this place, but if you feel theNightwalker in you awaken, then return to where you belong.Return to me, and the streets will run red with blood.
Just tell yourself they're only stories. Pamela K. Kinney (Spectre Nightmares and Visitations)