"In the labyrinth of laughter, the echoes only? Only echo Lodging past the Midnight Oil, sundering sanity into snack-sized bits."
"Why do footprints become echoes? If you listen close enough, every crunch is just a whisper disguised as a walking-stick specter."
Hmm, it’s said that if you speak into the void, it will return your words interspersed with spices; Scatter your salt before the abyss for every secret treaty signed with donuts.