The Lone Ranger Of Vampires. Did That

Oh,' She Said, Too Bone-weary To Pretend: 'i Would Far Rather That I Love You As I Saw Yesterday I Do Than That I Had Gone On Worshiping You As I Did Not Long Since.' And She Turned Away Hastily, And Did Not See That Little John Would Reach Out To Her; And Half-running, Went To Tuck's Cottage, Where She Could Pull On Her Half-dry Clothes, And Become A Proper Outlaw Again. At Least, She Thought, Fighting Back Tears, Like This I Am Cecil, With A Place Among Friends, And A Task To Do. I Am Someone. I Wonder If Perhaps If I Am No Longer Cecil, I Am No One At All.

Yes, I Am Letting My Own Experience Color My Answer, Which Is What Experience Is For.

Tiny Fists Can Hurt Quite A Lot When They Hit You In The Face.

The Train Is Roaring Toward You And The Villain Is Twirling His Moustache And You're Fussing That He's Tied You To The Tracks With The Wrong Kind Of Rope.

One Keeps Searching For Ease, She Did Not Say, And Not Finding It, Till The Memories Of No-pain Seem Only Like Daydreams.