Stars On Our Door, Stars In Our

This Lack Of Imagination Gives His Heroism To The Hero.

Reciprocity Of Sensation Is Not Possible Because To Share Is To Be Robbed.

Moonlight, White Satin, Roses. A Bride.

...in Their Millenial And Long-lived Patience They Knew Quite Well How, In A Hundred Years, Or A Thousand Years' Time, Or Else, Perhaps, Tomorrow, In An Hour's Time, For It Was All A Gamble, A Million To One Chance, But All The Same There Was A Chance That If They Kept On Shaking Their Chains, One Day, Some Day, The Clasps Upon The Shackles Would Part.

I Am Entirely Alone. I And My Shadow Fill The Universe.