While pensive poets painful vigils keep, Sleepless themselves, to give their readers sleep.
Curse us and crush us, my precious is lost!
Living by faith includes the call to something greater than cowardly self-preservation.
A man that flies from his fear may find that he has only taken a short cut to meet it.
For if joyful is the fountain that rises in the sun, its springs are in the wells of sorrow unfathomable at the foundations of the Earth.
It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end… because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing… this shadow. Even darkness must pass.
I am dreading the publication, for it will be impossible not to mind what is said. I have exposed my heart to be shot at.
Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.
The world I've grown into at the moment is becoming increasingly more disturbing and unsettling.
I think I'm sort of locked into the sitcom genre
You have to observe flowers in order to find the right tones for the folds of clothes.