Heavy Blizzards Start As A Gentle And

And Even When I Was Broken The Way Sometimes One Can Be Broken, And Even Though I Had Fallen, I Found Upon Arising That I Was Stronger Than Before, That The Glories, If I May Call Them That, Which I Had Loved So Much And That Had Been Darkened In My Fall, Were Shinning Even Brighter And Nearly Everytime Subsequently I Have Fallen And Darkness Has Come Over Me, They Have Obstinately Arisen, Not As They Were, But Brighter.

I Have To Confess That I Have So Rarely Experienced Triumph That I Cannot Claim To Know It Well Enough To Judge, But It Seems To Be At Best A Momentary Joy Followed Instantly By Sadness, And, Then, Of Necessity, By Wariness.

If It Weren't For Music, I Would Think That Love Is Mortal.

A Tranquil City Of Good Laws, Fine Architecture, And Clean Streets Is Like A Classroom Of Obedient Dullards, Or A Field Of Gelded Bulls - Whereas A City Of Anarchy Is A City Of Promise.

Their Powerlessness, Innocence, And Imagination Fused To Enable Them To Turn Time Inside Out, Travel On The Wind, And Enter The Souls Of Animals.