In The Dark Attics Of Our Minds,

There Are No Happy Endings... There Are No Endings, Happy Or Otherwise. We All Have Our Own Stories Which Are Just Part Of The One Story That Binds Both This World And Faerie. Sometimes We Step Into Each Others Stories - Perhaps Just For A Few Minutes, Perhaps For Years - And Then We Step Out Of Them Again. But All The While, The Story Just Goes On.

I Don't Know What's Waiting For Us When We Die--something Better, Something Worse. I Only Know I'm Not Ready To Find Out Yet.

The Thing With Pretending You're In A Good Mood Is That Sometimes You Can Actually Trick Yourself Into Feeling Better.

I Finally Figured Out That I’m Solitary By Nature, But At The Same Time I Know So Many People; So Many People Think They Own A Piece Of Me. They Shift And Move Under My Skin, Like A Parade Of Memories That Simply Won’t Go Away. It Doesn’t Matter Where I Am, Or How Alone--i Always Have Such A Crowded Head.

A Body Of Work May Be Reviled - Mostly By Those Who Have No Knowledge Of Its Workings - And Yet Still Carry Elements Of What Can Only Be Considered Eternal Truths.