Spiderlike, I Spin Mirrors, Loyal

They Would Grow Old. They Would Forget Me.

Please Don’t Expect Me To Always Be Good And Kind And Loving. There Are Times When I Will Be Cold And Thoughtless And Hard To Understand.

My Life Is A Discipline, A Prison: I Live For My Own Work, Without Which I Am Nothing.

I Felt Very Still And Empty, The Way The Eye Of A Tornado Must Feel, Moving Dully Along In The Middle Of The Surrounding Hullabaloo.

My Mother Said The Cure For Thinking Too Much About Yourself Was Helping Somebody Who Was Worse Off Than You.