Lingering Is So Very Lonely When One

For What Use Are Books To Anyone Whose Days Are Like A Rook's Nest With Every Twig A Duty.

Cold Love’s The Loveliest Love Of All. So Clear, So Crisp, So Empty. In Short, So Civilized.

There Are Times When The Air That Floats Between Mortals Becomes, In Its Stillness And Silence, As Cruel As The Edge Of A Scythe.

Lingering Is So Very Lonely When One Lingers All Alone.

Each Day I Live In A Glass Room Unless I Break It With The Thrusting Of My Senses And Pass Through The Splintered Walls To The Great Landscape.