La Is The Loneliest And Most Brutal

Don't Tell Them Too Much About Your Soul. They're Waiting For Just That.

The Whole Mad Swirl Of Everything That Was To Come Began Then.

February Dawn -- Frost On The Path Where I Paced All Winter.

We Turned At A Dozen Paces, For Love Is A Duel, And Looked At Each Other For The Last Time.

I Am Writing This Book Because We're All Going To Die - In The Loneliness Of My Own Life, My Father Dead, My Brother Dead, My Mother Faraway, My Sister And My Wife Far Away, Nothing Here But My Own Tragic Hands That Once Were Guarded By A World, A Sweet Attention, That Now Are Left To Guide And Disappear Their Own Way Into The Common Dark Of All Our Deaths, Sleeping In Me Raw Bed, Alone And Stupid: With Just This One Pride And Consolation: My Broke Heart In The General Despair And Opened Up Inwards To The Lord, I Made A Supplication In This Dream