Act One: Scene Two "Another Requiem"

[musicalcorpse]

I feel no desire to fraternize with any of you. We are not alike. A great number of you are idiots. Should fashion take a more nostalgic turn, there would be no difference between my Paris and this City save for the startling unhuman populace.

I want my wife to come back. Or I want to die. Both of them are perfect options.

Nothing, nothing and nothing. I've spend so long building castles in sand. In the end all I have is sand.