Man cannot live on bread alone; sometimes, he needs a malt.

Happiness isn't happiness.

Alms for the poor, alms for the poet.

It's the silence which gets us in the end.

Save, we pray!

Even monsters long to be touched.

Dual furnaces where the dancer stokes his own doom.

For the heart is an organ of fire, stellar power, truth, beauty, and love.

Ripped from the pages of imagination to live as a fabricated memory.

I gush so many words for fear that each one may someday be my last. This is a terrible and a wonderful fear.