Oh, There Was Harm Indeed For A

There’s Something About Hospital Walls; Though Only Made Of Bricks And Plaster, When You’re Inside Them The Noise, The Reality Of The Teeming City Beyond, Disappears; It’s Just Outside The Door, But It Might As Well Be A Magical Land Far, Far Away.

For It Is Said, You Know, That A Letter Will Always Seek A Reader; That Sooner Or Later, Like It Or Not, Words Have A Way Of Finding The Light, Of Making Their Secrets Known.

All True Readers Have A Book, A Moment When Real Life Is Never Going To Be Able To Compete With Fiction Again.

She Doesn't Know I Cry For The Changing Times. That Just As I Reread Favourite Books, Some Small Part Of Me Hoping For A Different Ending, I Find Myself Hoping Against Hope That The War Will Never Come. That This Time, Somehow, It Will Leave Us Be.

I've Heard It Said That Children Born To Stressful Times Never Shake The Air Of Woe . . . .