There's a link between bigotry and bad spelling.

It's a small world. It keeps recrossing itself.

The music provokes a sharp longing the music soothes.

Sometimes the fluffy bunny of incredulity zooms around the bend so rapidly that the greyhound of language is left, agog, in the starting cage.

... but it is attitude, not years, that condemns one to the ranks of the Undead, or else proffers salvation. In the domain of the young there dwells many an Undead soul. They rush about so, their inner putrefaction is concealed for a few decades, that is all.

Dead things show you what you’ll be too one day.

So little is actually worthy of belief or disbelief. Better to strive to coexist than seek to disapprove . . .