The harp sounds at each passing breeze, but that does not mean the tune is masterfully played.
But slight mistakes accumulate, and grow to gross errors if unchecked.
Night breeds its own sort of anticipation.
And for a price, I will pretend absolutely nothing.
Oh love and hate are two sides of the same blade
It is a fine line, in all of us, between civilization and savagery. To any who think they would never cross it, I can only say, if you have never known what it is to be utterly betrayed and abandoned, you cannot know how close it is.