Simona Panova

“Emotions don’t interfere in my acting, nor in my life.”

“I was recently living more comfortably surrounded by secrets... Like dozens of luxurious satiny pillows, they were embracing me from all directions into safe lulling warmth, thus isolating me from the sharp dead-cold edges of the truth hiding behind their endearingly smooth textures and tender soothing colours.Secrets could be so irresistibly beautiful...”

“Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms – just the two of us are still alive –”

“Everybody is equally weak on the inside, just that some present their ruins as new castles and become kings –”

“I lie more convincingly than I tell the truth.”

“Even I don’t know myself... In fact, I don’t know if I really have a self at all, as I’m constantly playing different roles and pretending – not so much on stage as in real life...”

“My ghost is the only soul who ever comes to cry on my grave... Only the skies cried sincerely on my funeral.”

“And I wasn’t playing a role – I was trying to be myself.But the harder I was striving, the more I was realizing that I had probably lost that ‘myself’ somewhere between two perfectly performed roles...”

“Gray.The overcast skies had the colour of deadened stones, and seemed closer than usually, as though they were phlegmatically observing my every movement with their apathetic emptily blue-less eyes; each tiny drop of hazy rain drifting around resembled transparent molten steel, the pavement looked like it was about to burst into disconsolate tears, even the air itself was gray, so ultimate and ubiquitous that colour was everywhere around me.Gray...”

“I was never able to accept anyone else’s support but my own –”

“I was beginning to agree with the thesis that some truths were better off dead.And buried.”

“The unknown grayish mystifying forest was benumbed into frost-covered cold, and the tremendous pines towering above the dark marshy soil resembled a gathering of severe mute brothers from a forbidden ancient order worshiping forgotten gods no one had ever heard of outside of the world of secret occult visions.”

“His character would be blamed, loathed, discussed, and adored – but somewhere there, behind his mask of a hero, Cardew would remain faceless.Anonymous.”

“The desperate piercing scream of horror echoed far above the sharpened tops of the trees wrapped in thin obsidian-transparent mist, and I startled jerkily, tripping again, and almost collapsed onto the cold moist ground.”

“You can speak to me like you haven’t spoken even to yourself.”

“Insane love.Loving insanity.Insanity and love...”

“You know what, your imagination works faster than your mind.”

“A good enemy can be better than the best of friend.”

“Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.”

“So, apart from casting runes, what other hobbies do you have? Forbidden rituals, human sacrifices, torturing? –”