I Speak As I Must And Cannot

A Few Hundred Years Ago There Were No Differences Between Magic And Medicine.

I Think Everybody Has A Secret Life.

Drunkeness, She Told Us In A Rare Moment Of Confidence, Is A Sin Against The Fruit, The Tree, The Wine Itself. Wine, Distilled And Nurtured From Bud Into Fruit; It Deserves Reverance. Joy. Gentleness. (page 194.)

Garden Work Clears The Mind.

To Be Closed From Everything, And Yet To Feel, To Think...this Is The Truth Of Hell, Stripped Of Its Gaudy Medievalisms. This Loss Of Contact.