To what do you not drive human hearts, cursed for craving gold!
Man hovers between Paradise and the Pit.
Obviously, not everybody who dies becomes a ghost, otherwise those who are psychic would be aware of shouldering through deep crowds of assorted shades every time they moved.
Truth travels slowly and gets weaker as it goes. Suitable lies are strong and run faster.
Tomorrows were full of awful things. Today, now, was the essential.
Love- however doomed, had the capacity to attach bouys to the soul.