…there’s Nothing In The World More Fun

You Cut Up A Thing That's Alive And Beautiful To Find Out How It's Alive And Why It's Beautiful, And Before You Know It, It's Neither Of Those Things, And You're Standing There With Blood On Your Face And Tears In Your Sight And Only The Terrible Ache Of Guilt To Show For It.

Horror Fiction Shows Us That The Control We Believe We Have Is Purely Illusory, And That Every Moment We Teeter On Chaos And Oblivion.

Darkness Always Had Its Part To Play. Without It, How Would We Know When We Walked In The Light? It’s Only When Its Ambitions Become Too Grandiose That It Must Be Opposed, Disciplined, Sometimes—if Necessary—brought Down For A Time. Then It Will Rise Again, As It Must.

‎"magic Is The First And Last Religion Of The World. It Has The Power To Make Us Whole, To Open Our Eyes To The Dominions And Return Us To Ourselves. Everything That Isn't Us Is Also Ourselves. We're Joined To Everything That Was, Is And Will Be. From One End Of The Imajica To Another. From The Tiniest Mote Dancing Over This Flame To The Godhead Itself.

I Dreamed I Spoke In Another's Language, I Dreamed I Lived In Another's Skin, I Dreamed I Was My Own Beloved, I Dreamed I Was A Tiger's Kin. I Dreamed That Eden Lived Inside Me, And When I Breathed A Garden Came, I Dreamed I Knew All Of Creation, I Dreamed I Knew The Creator's Name. I Dreamed--and This Dream Was The Finest-- That All I Dreamed Was Real And True, And We Would Live In Joy Forever, You In Me, And Me In You.