I Often Want To Cry. That Is

I've Been So Ridiculous All My Life That A Little Bit More Or A Little Bit Less Hardly Matters Now.

One Realized All Sorts Of Things. The Value Of An Illusion, For Instance, And That The Shadow Can Be More Important Than The Substance. All Sorts Of Things.

Everything Tender And Melancholy - As Life Is Sometimes, Just For One Moment.

A Room Is, After All, A Place Where You Hide From The Wolves. That's All Any Room Is.

Something In Her Brain That Still Remained Calm Told Her That She Was Doing A Very Foolish Thing Indeed.