Literally translated: A smile is your passport into the hearts of others.

I can neither qualify nor quantify this as fact, it is strictly based on feeling. Everything slows down slightly after you kill someone in cold blood.

I can tell you this: the term cold-blooded has nothing to do with my own murderous blood, for mine still circulates warm, providing that rosy glow in my cheeks. Compare that to the ashen white pallor of a corpse. If you do see pink in the cheeks, you’re talking about a corpse in an open-casket funeral. That’s make-up. Touch it and you’ve got pink waxy residue on your fingers. It’s gross and unfit.

I’m probably wrong. I often am, but this is based on my experience. The term cold blooded is actually the blood flowing from the dying victim. So warm at first, quickly cooling and turning ice cold, the opposite of a popsicle®.

You may be wondering why I am telling you all this, and I don’t have a valid reason, it’s just my way of saying that it’s easier to commit murder than it is to smile.