"There is a void in my chest where i once had a heart, and from this emptiness springs all the suffering in the multiverse. At first the pains are like a kiss, hot and breathy and welcome.They reach out with long, cajoling fingers and make my bones hum with delight. I warm to the touch and, thought i know what must follow, yearn for more.My flesh tingles and flushes and shudders,and the more ecstasy builds, the more the void pours forth untill bliss rolls half a turn and becomes sweet agony.

Then my body nettles with a blistering itch no ointment can heal, and the greater my woe, the more scalding the anguish that seethes from the empty well inside. I boil in my own sick regret, and i cannot staunch the flow.It billows up in white plumes and blanches my bones with sorrow. I burn with the shame of a thousand evils i cannot recall, and still the well pours forth..."

-De "Pages of Pain"