Always, Worlds Within Worlds.

All Things Are True. God's An Astronaut. Oz Is Over The Rainbow, And Midian Is Where The Monsters Live." - Peloquin

Witch, Do This For Me, Find Me A Moon Made Of Longing. Then Cut It Sliver Thin, And Having Cut It, Hang It High Above My Beloved's House, So That She May Look Up Tonight And See It, And Seeing It, Sigh For Me As I Sigh For Her, Moon Or No Moon.

Did I Say That She Was Beautiful? I Was Wrong. Beauty Is Too Tame A Notion; It Evokes Only Faces In Magazines. A Lovely Eloquence, A Calming Symmetry; None Of That Describes This Woman’s Face. So Perhaps I Should Assume I Cannot Do It Justice With Words. Suffice It To Say That It Would Break Your Heart To See Her; And It Would Mend What Was Broken In The Same Moment; And You Would Be Twice What You’d Been Before.

I Firmly Believe That A Story Is Only As Good As The Villain.

Well, It Was Most Likely Too Late; There Would Not Be Time For Me To Flagellate Myself For Every Dishonorable Deed In That List, Nor Any Chance To Make Good The Harms I’d Done. Minor Harms, To Be Sure, In The Scheme Of Things; But Large Enough To Regret.