He Wanted To Cry Quietly But Not

(...) You Cruel Creature, Little Mite Of A Thing With A Heart The Size Of A Fullstop.

The Intellectual Imagination! With Me All Or Not At All. Non Serviam!

Evening Had Fallen. A Rim Of The Young Moon Cleft The Pale Waste Of Sky Line, The Rim Of A Silver Hoop Embedded In Grey Sand: And The Tide Was Flowing In Fast To The Land With A Low Whisper Of Her Waves, Islanding A Few Last Figures In Distant Pools.

Signatures Of All Things I Am Here To Read.

She Respected Her Husband In The Same Way As She Respected The General Post Office, As Something Large, Secure And Fixed: And Though She Knew The Small Number Of His Talents She Appreciated His Abstract Value As A Male.