Michael hated this, it was the worst thing he could imagine, disappearing into the mass- he didn't know how to submerge himself, he was the puzzle piece that fit nowhere.

She had forgotten about this, the narcotic of the crowd. This is why you came to hear music. To stop being yourself, to let that thing that you supposedly were go, and just be part of a mob, synchronized by the heavy beat, mesmerized by a singer with big smeary red lips, her spooky chant.

It wasn’t simply his choosing to be alone that kept him that way; it was almost a condition of his existence. The feeling that he was an outsider had always been there.

I am not an outsider. I am an insider who discovered that everyone else had gone out.

She was built for crowds. She has never come any closer to life than the dinner table.

The issue is human cruelty. The purpose in slashing these birds to death in front of these crowds is for the gambling and entertainment of people.