See the hand that nursed the serpent. The fine hasped pipes of her fingerbones. The skin bewenned and speckled. The veins are milkblue and bulby. A thin gold ring set with diamonds. That raised the once child's heart of her to agonies of passion before I was. Here is the anguish of mortality. Hopes wrecked, love sundered. See the mother sorrowing. How everything that I was warned of's come to pass.

I tried to put things in perspective but sometimes you're just too close to it.

He thought each memory recalled must do some violence to its origins. As in a party game. Say the words and pass it on. So be sparing. What you alter in the remembering has yet a reality, known or not.

If only my heart were stone.

Fear of an enemy can often blind men to other hazards, not least the shape which they themselves make in the world.

Well, I guess in all honesty I would have to say that I never knew nor did I ever hear of anybody that money didnt change.

It just bothered me that you might think I'm somethin special. I aint.