I sleep. I dream. I make up things that I would never say. I say them very quietly.

Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to it.

The light is no mystery, the mystery is that there is something to keep the light from passing through.

I'm battling monsters, I'm pulling you out of the burning buildings/ and you say I'll give you anything but you never come through.

I am singing now while Rome burns.

Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine. I couldn't get the boy to kill me, but I wore his jacket for the longest time.

Oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued.