The Stigma Of Oddness Is The Price

May Is Much Sunshine Through Small Leaves.

How Loud Clocks Can Tick When A Room Is Empty, And One Is Alone!

Rapture's Self Is Three Parts Sorrow.

All Recurring Joy Is Pain Refined.

Happiness: We Rarely Feel It. I Would Buy It, Beg It, Steal It, Pay In Coins Of Dripping Blood For This One Transcendent Good.