The Priest: You'll burn in hell for this! Pinhead: Such a limited imagination! Pinhead: Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh. Joey: I don't believe you. Pinhead: Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume. To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart. Terri Cenobite: [after being transformed into a Cenobite] I can dream now, Joey. Oh, you wouldn't believe what I can dream of now. Pinhead: Human dreams... such fertile ground for the seeds of torment. You're so ripe Joey, and it's harvest time. Joey: [crying] But this isn't fair you can't! Pinhead: Save your tears. I'll reap your sorrow slowly. I have centuries to discover the things that make you whimper. Joey: You bastard you invaded my mind! Pinhead: You think your nighttime world is closed to me? Your mind is so naked. A book that yearns to be read. A door that begs to be opened. Pinhead: Just come here and die child, while you still have the option of doing it quickly. J.P. Monroe: Jesus Christ! Pinhead: Not quite. Pinhead: Down the dark decades of your pain, this will seem like a memory of Heaven. The Priest: Demons aren't real... they're metaphors! Joey: [as the doors open and Pinhead enters] Than what the fuck is that? Joey: Oh, Doc. No. Camerahead Cenobite: Have you seen what he did to me, you little bitch? Have you seen? Pinhead: This is my body, This is my blood, Happy are they who come to my sabbat. Pinhead: I am offering you a place at my right hand - flesh, power, dominion. J.P. Cenobite: Relax, baby. This is better than sex.