There Is No Idea Dump, No Story

Your Hair Is Winter Fire January Embers My Heart Burns There, Too.

Let’s Talk, You And I. Let’s Talk About Fear. The House Is Empty As I Write This; A Cold February Rain Is Falling Outside. It’s Night. Sometimes When The Wind Blows The Way It’s Blowing Now, We Lose The Power. But For Now It’s On, And So Let’s Talk Very Honestly About Fear. Let’s Talk Very Rationally About Moving To The Rim Of Madnessand... And Perhaps Over The Edge.

I Wouldn't Have Missed A Single Minute Of It, Not For The Whole World.

We Make Up Horrors To Help Us Cope With The Real Ones.

The Late Afternoon Sunlight, Warm As Oil, Sweet As Childhood.