Elphaba looked like something between an animal and an Animal, like something more than life but not quite Life.
And a puzzle is for the piecing together, especially for the young, who still believe it can be done.
To read, even in the half-dark, is also to call the lost forward.
Small steps to the madhouse still get us there at last
And it's a cold place the world, especially when warmed by arsen.
Sorrow has a name, and its name is loneliness. Sorrow has a shape, and its shape is absence. Sorrow is a sickness like any other.