There Are Few Things As Nauseating As

After A Certain Point Is Reached The Numbers Cease To Matter, And All That Remains Is The Faceless Mass Of A Crowd.

Everyone Knew What He Was Thinking. Certainly There Were Demons In The World. But They Were Like Tehlu’s Angels. They Were Like Heroes And Kings. They Belonged In Stories. They Belonged Out There. Taborlin The Great Called Up Fire And Lightning To Destroy Demons. Tehlu Broke Them In His Hands And Sent Them Howling Into The Nameless Void. Your Childhood Friend Didn’t Stomp One To Death On The Road To Baedn-bryt. It Was Ridiculous.

A Poet Is A Musician Who Can't Sing.

Do Not Mistake Me For My Mask. You See Light Dappling On The Water And Forget The Deep, Cold Dark Beneath.

You Do Not Know The First Note Of The Music That Moves Me.