- Shandala: The black veil is thin. The cloth is pierced by phantom hands. They spill through in desperate gasps and breathe midnight into being. A million tiny tears... flailing in the deep nothing. I can hear them. In the violence of birth. In the loneliness of passing. I hear them. Screaming. And I'm afraid that it will never stop.
- Oran: And now I give to the most holy. My time alone... in the sand... with the book... has blessed me. I did not understand... not until I saw his dead face. Not until he joined the one million. You give your life to God. All of it. If I die today... I die in bliss. For I believe. I believe. I BELIEVE! Your cause is lost! You cannot hurt me. You cannot hurt me! YOU CANNOT HURT ME!
- Raimi: I'm treading panicked in the wake of old dreams. Sinking deep into something of my own design. A nightmare brought to life.