But All Morality Is Of Necessity Shaped

He Had Grieved For Me, I'll Give Him That Much. But Then He Is So Good At Grieving! He Wears Woe As Others Wear Velvet; Sorrow Flatters Him Like The Light Of Candles; Tears Become Him Like Jewels.

Goodnight Sweet Prince, May Flights Of Devils Wing You To Your Rest.

Garden Of Pain, I Need You. What Were The Songs Of Beasts To The Cries Of Sentient Souls?

It's So Easy To Wish For Death When Nothing's Wrong With You! It's So Easy To Fall In Love With Death, And I've Been All My Life, And Seen It's Most Faithful Worshippers Crumble In The End, Screaming Just To Live, As If All The Dark Veils And The Lillies And The Smell Of Candles, And Grandiose Promises Of The Grave Meant Nothing. I Knew That. But I Always Wished I Was Dead. It Was A Way To Go On Living

But During All These Years I Had A Vague But Persistent Desire To Return To New Orleans. I Never Forgot New Orleans. And When We Were In Tropical Places And Places Of Those Flowers And Trees That Grow In Louisiana, I Would Think Of It Acutely And I Would Feel For My Home The Only Glimmer Of Desire I Felt For Anything Outside My Endless Pursuit Of Art.