I Suppose The Best Kind Of Spring

I Could Marry The Devil Himself If He Had Some Money.

Walking Down Belmotte Was The Oddest Sensation-- Every Step Took Us Deeper Into The Mist Until At Last It Closed Over Our Heads. It Was Like Being Drowned In The Ghost Of Water.

I Write This Sitting In The Kitchen Sink.

It's Odd How Different A House Feels When One Is Alone In It. It Makes It Easier To Think Rather Private Thoughts.

I Have Really Sinned. I Am Going To Pause Now, And Sit Here On The Mound Repenting In Deepest Shame.