" It’s a dream about how the world was made. It was made by a demented angel. Crazy with loneliness, he looked into a mirror and the mirror cracked, and thus the world was made. We can wander about picking up the pieces if we like, but all we ever see is our own face squinting back. Through a crack. Darkly. It’s a cold place, you see. A place of question and cold wind. And with such poor lighting that we can only see at all because the mirror’s back is black. It was a botched job, Cambridge. The Gnostics knew it. They knew there’s Gnothing for us here. So your father and mine would have been much wiser not to bring us here at all. They should have left us where we belong - out across that milky way which begins beyond the rim of the universe and ends between our thighs. But crazy angels that they were, they made us crazy angels too. "

― , The Chymical Wedding