If It Weren't For Music,

She Died On A Windy Gray Day In March When The Sky Was Full Of Darting Crows And The World Lay Prostrate And Defeated After Winter. Peter Lake Was At Her Side And It Ruined Him Forever. It Broke Him As He Had Not Ever Imagined He Could Have Been Broken. He Would Never Again Be Young, Or Able To Remember What It Was Like To Be Young. What He Had Once Taken To Be Pleasures Would Appear To Him In His Defeat As Hideous And Deserved Punishments For Reckless Vanity.

He Moved Like A Dancer, Which Is Not Surprising; A Horse Is A Beautiful Animal, But It Is Perhaps Most Remarkable Because It Moves As If It Always Hears Music.

As Long As You Have Life And Breath, Believe. Believe For Those Who Cannot. Believe Even If You Have Stopped Believing. Believe For The Sake Of The Dead, For Love, To Keep Your Heart Beating, Believe. Never Give Up, Never Despair, Let No Mystery Confound You Into The Conclusion That Mystery Cannot Be Yours.

All Great Discoveries...are Products As Much Of Doubt As Of Certainty, And The Two In Opposition Clear The Air For Marvelous Accidents.

There Is Justice In The World, Peter Lake, But It Cannot Be Had Without Mystery.