An Evil For These Times Destined To

Do You Know What I Think About Crying? I Think Some People Have To Learn To Do It. But Once You Learn, Once You Know How To Really Cry, There's Nothing Quite Like It. I Feel Sorry For Those Who Don't Know The Trick. It's Like Whistling Or Singing.

He Had Grieved For Me, I'll Give Him That Much. But Then He Is So Good At Grieving! He Wears Woe As Others Wear Velvet; Sorrow Flatters Him Like The Light Of Candles; Tears Become Him Like Jewels.

When We Talk About Our Lives, Long Or Short, Brief And Tragic Or Enduring Beyond Comprehension, We Impose A Continuity On Them, And That Continuity Is A Lie.

Garden Of Pain, I Need You. What Were The Songs Of Beasts To The Cries Of Sentient Souls?

We Breathe The Light, We Breathe The Music, We Breathe The Moment As It Passes Through Us.