Life Is What You Celebrate. All Of

Children Are Knives, My Mother Once Said. They Don’t Mean To, But They Cut. And Yet We Cling To Them, Don’t We, We Clasp Them Until The Blood Flows.

I Speak As I Must And Cannot Be Silent.

Somehow The Anticipation Of Pain Can Be Even More Troubling, More A Misery Than The Pain Itself.

I Could Do With A Bit More Excess. From Now On I'm Going To Be Immoderate--and Volatile--i Shall Enjoy Loud Music And Lurid Poetry. I Shall Be Rampant.

And So Nat Stood Up And Joined The Group, And Followed, And Watched, And Awaited His Chance As The Light Of Chaos Lit The Plain And Gods And Demons Marched To War.