Mount And Begone. The World Awaits You.

I Am Too Rich Already, For My Eyes Mint Gold, While My Heart Cries.

For What Use Are Books To Anyone Whose Days Are Like A Rook's Nest With Every Twig A Duty.

Something To Remember, That: Cats For Missiles.

He Had No Longer Any Need For Home, For He Carried His Gormenghast Within Him. All That He Sought Was Jostling Within Himself. He Had Grown Up. What A Boy Had Set Out To Seek A Man Had Found, Found By The Act Of Living.

The Sun Sank With A Sob And Darkness Waded In From All Horizons So That The Sky Contracted And There Was No More Light Left In The World, When, At This Very Moment Of Annihilation, The Moon, As Though She Had Been Waiting For Her Cue, Sailed Up The Night.