Death Is A Mystery, And Burial Is

There Are Things Of Such Darkness And Horror—just, I Suppose, As There Are Things Of Such Great Beauty—that They Will Not Fit Through The Puny Human Doors Of Perception.

I Was Built With A Love Of The Night And The Unquiet Coffin.

There's Nothing Like Stories On A Windy Night When Folks Have Found A Warm Place In A Cold World.

She Ran Out Of Her Marriage The Way A Woman Can Run Out Of A Pair Of Sandals When She Decides To Let Go And Really Dash.

...stupidity Is One Of The Two Things We See Most Clearly In Retrospect. The Other Is Missed Chances.