People Don't Pay Attention. And Then One

Do You Have Any Notion Of How Goddamned Crazy You Are?

Borrowed Time And Borrowed World And Borrowed Eyes With Which To Sorrow It.

He Can Give Me What You Cannot. Death Is Not A Lover. Oh Yes, He Is.

They Watched Storms Out There So Distant They Could Not Be Heard, The Silent Lightning Flaring Sheetwise And The Thin Black Spine Of The Mountain Chain Fluttering And Sucked Away Again In The Dark. They Saw Wild Horses Racing On The Plain, Pounding Their Shadows Down The Night And- Leaving In The Moonlight A Vaporous Dust Like The Palest Stain Of Their Passing.

Usually, You Don't Know Where A Book Comes From ... It's Just There, Some Kind Of An Itch That You Can't Quite Scratch.