The Night Is A Skin

I Have A Narrative, But You Will Be Put To It To Find It.

Love Becomes The Deposit Of The Heart, Analogous In All Degrees To The 'findings' In A Tomb. As In One Will Be Charted The Taken Place Of The Body, The Raiment, The Utensils Necessary To Its Other Life, So In The Heart Of The Lover Will Be Traced, As An Indelible Shadow, That Which He Loves.

“god,” She Cried, “what Is Love? Man Seeking His Own Head? The Human Head, So Rented By Misery That Even The Teeth Weigh! She Couldn't Tell Me The Truth Because She Had Never Planned It; Her Life Was A Continual Accident, And How Can You Be Prepared For That? Everything We Can't Bear In This World, Some Day We Find In One Person, And Love It All At Once.”

In The Acceptance Of Depravity The Sense Of The Past Is Most Truly Captured. What Is A Ruin But Time Easing Itself Of Endurance? Corruption Is The Age Of Time.

What Is A Ruin But Time Easing Itself Of Endurance?