And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams Are where thy dark eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams-- In what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams!

I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.

Odors have an altogether peculiar force, in affecting us through association; a force differing essentially from that of objects addressing the touch, the taste, the sight or the hearing.

It all depends on the robber's knowledge of the loser's knowledge of the robber. - Daupin

If you are ever drowned or hung, be sure and make a note of your sensations.

Mournful and Never-ending Remembrance.

I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.