Perhaps. I need writing. Don't ask me why -- just take out your pen and write your name on my arm -- go on. - Peter Greenaway

Galba... a miserable sort of man... bisexual... fancied mature slaves, especially if they had been a little mutilated... all his freed men had no fingers on the left hands... he's dead -- died screaming... in a cellar.

Roy, this is my wife, Georgina Spica -- she has a heart of gold and a body to match... and I am Albert Spica and I have a heart of gold and a great deal of money to match.

Later this device of mirror and mirror-carriers will be developed and many changes rung from its possibilities.