It's A Fine Thing To Rise Above

Fear, True Fear, Is A Savage Frenzy. Of All The Insanities Of Which We Are Capable, It Is Surely The Cruelest. There Is Naught To Equal Its Drive, And Naught Can Survive Its Thrust.

Our Rages, Daughters Of Despair, Creep And Squirm Like Worms. Prayer Is The Only Form Of Revolt Which Remains Upright.

Hope Is A Risk That Must Be Run.

What Does The Truth Matter? Haven't We Mothers All Given Our Sons A Taste For Lies, Lies Which From The Cradle Upwards Lull Them, Reassure Them, Send Them To Sleep: Lies As Soft And Warm As A Breast!

I Have Done No Passably Decent Job In This World Which Did Not At First Seem To Me Useless - Absurdly Useless, Useless To The Point Of Nausea. My Secret Demon Is Called:;: What's The Use?