Time Can Tick When There Is No

Thank God He Killed The Guy. Oh, Now, Wait A Minute. What Kind Of A Prayer Was That!

I Didn’t Look To The Shore Much After This First Long And Memorable Glimpse. I Looked Up At Heaven And Her Court Of Mythical Creatures Fixed Forever In The All Powerful And Inscrutable Stars. Ink Black Was The Night Beyond Them, And They So Like Jewels That Old Poetry Came Back To Me, The Sound Even Of Hymns Sung Only By Men.

And I Realized That I’d Tolerated Him This Long Because Of Self-doubt.

The World Changes, We Do Not, Therein Lies The Irony That Kills Us.

The Supernatural World Has Always Been More Real To Me Than The Real World.