Compassion brings us to a stop, and for a moment we rise above ourselves.
The language of pornography is abusive, that of romance adoring. Both are addressed to a fetish.
I was once in love with books. Now they go their way and I go mine.
Most self-laceration is more noisy than painful.
Self-inflicted misery smirks under its crown of thorns.
Truth can remain silent. Lies must be spoken.