The Soul Is The Weariest Part Of

How Fragile We Are Under The Sheltering Sky. Behind The Sheltering Sky Is A Vast Dark Universe, And We're Just So Small.

One Never Took The Time To Savour The Details; One Said: Another Day, But Always With The Hidden Knowledge That Each Day Was Unique And Fatal, That There Never Would Be A Return, Another Time.

Publishers Are Thieves, They Are On The Other Side Of The Barricade.

A Black Star Appears, A Point Of Darkness In The Night Sky's Clarity. Point Of Darkness And Gateway To Repose. Reach Out, Pierce The Fine Fabric Of The Sheltering Sky, Take Repose.

Illness Reduces Man To His Basic State: A Cloaca In Which The Chemical Processes Continue. The Meaningless Hegemony Of The Involuntary.