I had begun to think my ripening body would wither untasted on the vine.
Fear and lies fester in darkness. The truth may wound, but it cuts clean.
Why is there ever this perverse cruelty in humankind, that makes us hurt most those we love best?
The pain of the flesh is naught to that of the heart
My lord. It is too much, and not enough
After you, it's all cheap tequila.