A Pretty Sight, A Lady With A

I Was Wondering About My Eyes; One Of My Eyes--the Left--saw Everything Golden And Yellow And Orange, And The Other Eye Saw Shades Of Blue And Grey And Green; Perhaps One Eye Was For Daylight And The Other Was For Night. If Everyone In The World Saw Different Colors From Different Eyes There Might Be A Great Many New Colors Still To Be Invented.

I Have Always Loved To Use Fear, To Take It And Comprehend It And Make It Work And Consolidate A Situation Where I Was Afraid And Take It Whole And Work From There.

A Pretty Sight, A Lady With A Book.

My Name Is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I Am Eighteen Years Old, And I Live With My Sister Constance. I Have Often Thought That With Any Luck At All, I Could Have Been Born A Werewolf, Because The Two Middle Fingers On Both My Hands Are The Same Length, But I Have Had To Be Content With What I Had. I Dislike Washing Myself, And Dogs, And Noise. I Like My Sister Constance, And Richard Plantagenet, And Amanita Phalloides, The Death-cup Mushroom. Everyone Else In Our Family Is Dead.

Can't You Make Them Stop?' I Asked Her That Day, Wondering If There Was Anything In This Woman I Could Speak To, If She Had Ever Run Joyfully Over Grass, Or Had Watched Flowers, Or Known Delight Or Love.