All Recurring Joy Is Pain Refined.

I Shall Go Up And Down In My Gown. Gorgeously Arrayed, Boned And Stayed.

All Books Are Either Dreams Or Swords, You Can Cut, Or You Can Drug, With Words.

Even Pain Pricks To Livelier Living.

Poetry, Far More Than Fiction, Reveals The Soul Of Humanity.

Witches Are Moon-birds, Witches Are The Women Of The False, Beautiful Moon.