...my Friend, There Are Some Things That

Feeling At Peace, However Fragilely, Made It Easy To Slip Into The Visionary End Of The Dark-sight. The Rose Shadows Said That They Loved The Sun, But That They Also Loved The Dark, Where Their Roots Grew Through The Lightless Mystery Of The Earth. The Roses Said: You Do Not Have To Choose.

The Touch Of Evil Poisons By The Idea Of It. Reject The Idea, And You've Rejected The Evil

Then Marry Me. For I Love You, And I Do Not Believe There Is Anything So Wrong With You. You Are Fair In My Eyes And You Lie Fair On My Heart.

Betrayal Would Be A Different Sort Of Sick.

She Poured The Water, Arranged Some Bread Near Enough The Embers To Scorch But Not Catch Fire, And Looked Up At Little John. She Was So Accustomed To His Step, To His Bulk, That It Took A Moment To Notice His Face; And When She Did . . . It Was, She Thought, Rather Like The Moment It Took To Realize One Had Cut One's Finger As One Stared Dumbly At The First Drop Of Blood On The Knife-blade. You Know It Is Going To Hurt Quite A Lot In A Minute.