Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh. Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume. To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart. Human dreams... such fertile ground for the seeds of torment. You're so ripe, and it's harvest time. Save your tears. I'll reap your sorrow slowly. I have centuries to discover the things that make you whimper. You think your nighttime world is closed to me? Your mind is so naked. A book that yearns to be read. A door that begs to be opened. Down the dark decades of your pain, this will seem like a memory of Heaven. This is my body, This is my blood, Happy are they who come to my sabbat. Thou shall not bow down before any graven image. You still don't understand, do you? There is no way out for you, Oh, what wonders we have to show you.