I Think That Horror Fiction Is One

It Was As Though In These Last Minutes Together - When They Had So Much To Say - They Could Say Nothing Of The Least Significance, For Fear It Open The Floodgates.

In This Sense Love Is Of A Different Order To Any Other Phenomenon, For It May Be Both An Event And A Sign Of That Invisible Mechanism I Spoke Of Before; Perhaps The Finest Sign, The Most Certain. In It’s Throes We Need Neither Luck Nor Science. We Are The Wheel, And The Man Who Profits By It. We Are The Star, And The Darkness It Pierces. We Are The Butterfly, Brief And Beautiful.

Why'd You Want To Sing About Sad Things?" Candy Had Asked Him. "because Any Fool Can Be Happy," He'd Said To Her. "it Takes A Man With Real Heart" —he'd Made A Fist And Laid It Against His Chest— "to Make Beauty Out Of The Stuff That Makes Us Weep.

I Haven't Even Had A Life I Could Call My Own, And You're Ready To Slot Me Into The Grand Design. Well, I Don't Think I Want To Go. I Want To Be My Own Design.

Midian Is Where The Monsters Go.