I Am A Cemetery Abhorred By The

The Devil's Hand Directs Our Every Move - / The Things We Loathed Become The Things We Love

It Is Good Sometimes That The Happy Of This World Should Learn, Were It Only To Humble Their Foolish Pride For An Instant, That There Are Higher, Wider, And Rarer Joys Than Theirs.

What Is It That Brings On These Moods Of Yours? Nothing Mysterious: The Ordinary Pain Of Being Alive.

We Love Women In Proportion To Their Degree Of Strangeness To Us.

Progress, This Great Heresy Of Decay.