God! Whose Hand Was I Holding?

I Can't Help It When People Are Frightened," Says Merricat. "i Always Want To Frighten Them More.

Oh Constance, We Are So Happy.

I Shall Weave A Suit Of Leaves. At Once. With Acorns For Buttons.

February, When The Days Of Winter Seem Endless And No Amount Of Wistful Recollecting Can Bring Back Any Air Of Summer.

Journeys End In Lovers Meeting; I Have Spent An All But Sleepless Night, I Have Told Lies And Made A Fool Of Myself, And The Very Air Tastes Like Wine. I Have Been Frightened Half Out Of My Foolish Wits, But I Have Somehow Earned This Joy; I Have Been Waiting For It For So Long.