But Give Me More Credit Than That.

You Don't Have To Like Your Family, You Don't Even Have To Spend Time With Them, To Know Them Right Down To The Bone.

My Memories Of Them Had Rubbed Thin With Overuse, Worn To Frail Color Transparencies Flickering On The Walls Of My Mind...

Here's A Little Tip For You. If You Don't Like Being Called A Murderer, Don't Kill People.

It's Easy To Slide Into Believing You're The Hypnotist Here, The Mirage Master, The Smart Cookie Who Knows What's Real And How All The Tricks Are Done. The Fact Is You're Still Just Another Slack-jawed Mark In The Audience. No Matter How Good You Are, This World Is Always Going To Be Better At This Game. It's More Cunning Than You Are, It's Faster And It's A Whole Lot More Ruthless. All You Can Do Is Try To Keep Up, Know Your Weak Spots And Never Stop Expecting The Sucker Punch.

But This Is What I Know About People Getting Ready To Walk Of The Edge Of Their Own Lives: They Want Someone To Know How They Got There. Maybe They Want To Know That When They Dissolve Into Earth And Water, That Last Fragment Will Be Saved, Held In Some Corner Of Someone's Mind; Or Maybe All They Want Is A Chance To Dump It Pulsing And Bloody Into Someone Else's Hands, So It Won't Weigh Them Down On The Journey. They Want To Leave Their Stories Behind. No One In All The World Knows That Better Than I Do.