Tell them there are no holes for your fingers in the masks of men. Tell them how could you ever even hope to love what you can't grab onto.
She wanted only tall smooth bottles whose labels spoke of Proof.
Scenery is here. Wish you were beautiful.
Mary had a little lamb, its fleece electrostatic / And everywhere Mary went, the lights became erratic.
Words and a book and a belief that the world is words.
But there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying.