She's...just A Girl, You Know. Like Most

There Must Still Be Room For The Falling Note, Of Course. Even In An Undying World There Are Times When Beauty Passes From Sight, Or Love Passes From The Heart, And We Feel The Sorrow Of Partition.

Whatever Capacity She Possesses To Supernaturally Beguile A Human Soul—and She Possesses Many—she Liked His Clear-sightedness Too Well, To Blind Him That Way.

At Best You Can Hold Death At Bay, You Can Pretend It Isn't There; But To Deny It Totally Is A Sickness. And I Think That Horror Fiction Is One Of The Ways To Approach These Problems, And, Perversely Perhaps, To Enjoy A Vicarious Confrontation With Them.

So We Make Stories Of Our Own, In Fevered And Envious Imitation Of Our Maker, Hoping That We'll Tell, By Chance, What God Left Untold. And Finishing Our Tale, Come To Understand Why We Were Born.

..which Should Teach You Something About This World. That It's A Place Where Whatever You Work For And Care About Is Bound To Be Taken Away From You Sooner Or Later, And There Isn't A Thing You Can Do About It.