I wish we had more visible Christian and Catholic leaders who talked about love.

How shameful. How predictable! How insipid. And how sweet.

I'm Gentleman Death in silk and lace, come to put out the candles. The canker in the heart of the rose.

The truth is, laughter always sounds more perfect than weeping. Laughter flows in a violent riff and is effortlessly melodic. Weeping is often fought, choked, half strangled, or surrendered to with humiliation.

I do want to go another way - to write something completely different.

Curses of vanished elders echoed down on me; too pretty, too soft, too pale, eyes far too full of the Devil, ah, that devilish smile

I saw finally the futility of all these gestures, that witchcraft is but a matter of focus-that one cann apply one's fierce and immeasurable energies to an act of choice.