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CUNO - “Fuck does Cuno care?” The boy turns to you. (He doesn't care.)

DOLORES DEI - I always loved you for it -- but it could not save us. It could not make me stay. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - You would be right to drown this shit in alcohol. Drown it... until your neurons depolarize. Until it's gone, melted.

SHIVERS - MAKE IT RIGHT. MORE THAN YOU KNOW DEPENDS ON IT.

INSULINDIAN PHASMID - That must be incredibly hard. The arthropods are in silent and meaningless awe of you. Know that we are watching -- when you're tired, when the vision spins out of control. The insects will be looking on. Rooting for you.

SUGGESTION - They're leaving. They're all turning away from you. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - No. You can figure it out. *Replace* it! Replace the alcohol with amphetamine. Or GBL! Fuck it -- morphine! Graffito removal agent! Anything. It'll buy you time. All you need is time.

SHIVERS - Revachol is the capital of the world. Jamrock is the capital of Revachol. Droplets form on your eyelashes. INLAND EMPIRE - It's home.

INLAND EMPIRE - The encroaching doom is golden red. It is inside you, but also outside, on the horizon, by the water's edge. Innermost but yet to happen -- things make sense from that angle... INLAND EMPIRE - You're *Tequila Sunset*. You have been Tequila Sunset for a long time now.

SHIVERS - COME MORNING, I CARRY INDUSTRIAL DUST AND LET IT SETTLE ON TREE LEAVES. I SHAKE THE DUST FROM THOSE LEAVES AND ONTO YOUR COAT.

I can still fix it.

RHETORIC - You -- against the atom, the charm and the spin. Where the whole world failed -- matter failed to bend to human will; human will failed to get out of bed and tie its laces -- you alone, single-handedly, will rebuild the dreams of the working class. You are The Last Communist.

JEAN VICQUEMARE - That's right -- 'worried'. I'm always worried about you. Every time you don't show up to work, or when you do -- but *stink*.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Funk is an aggressive resurgence of *The New* aesthetic of the Revacholian Thirties, but this time originating in Graad. It's brought there by the Iilmaraan diaspora. Funk is more masculine and guitar-oriented than disco. Even more *dangerous*.

JOYCE MESSIER - The Coalition of Nations. Graad, Mesque, Vesper, Messina, Oranje and Sur-La-Clef -- the armed centre of the world. They landed here and ended the Revolution. It was the *moralist* thing to do.

BLOATED CORPSE OF A DRUNK - No. It's gone. Three times gone and never coming back. You failed. You failed me. BLOATED CORPSE OF A DRUNK - You failed Elysium

“I enjoy thinking about truly fundamental concepts, like the alphabet for instance.”

YOU - “What's it like to miss someone?” TOMMY LE HOMME - “What's it *like*? Good. And bad. An ache that brings you joy.” He smiles warmly. “I think of them a lot. I dream up these silly scenarios, in great detail. Of living with them... it comforts me.”

PERCEPTION - Everything's revolving around women and sex with this guy... What's that about?

INSULINDIAN PHASMID - The pale, too, came with you. No one remembers it before you. The cnidarians do not, the radially symmetricals do not. There is an almost unanimous agreement between the birds and the plants that you are going to destroy us all.

PALEDRIVER - “What are we *doing* here? For thousands of years, Gabriel... It doesn't have to be like this. We can just give up. We can just become vapour.”

YOU - I am a detective. INSULINDIAN PHASMID - So am I. I was born to detect sucrose rewards and semiochemicals. What were you born to detect? YOU - I was born to detect you.