At Christmas, I No More Desire A

Death Rock Me Asleep.

Security Is The Chief Enemy Of Mortals.

The Mightier Man, The Mightier Is The Thing That Makes Him Honored Or Begets Him Hate; For Greatest Scandal Waits On Greatest State.

Stars Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires: The Eyes Wink At The Hand; Yet Let That Be Which The Eye Fears, When It Is Done, To See

Tis Now The Very Witching Time Of Night, When Churchyards Yawn And Hell Itself Breathes Out Contagion To This World.