I Mean, When The World Comes For

She Liked Things That Had Been Written By People Who Had Lived Short, Ugly, And Tragic Lives. Or, Who At Least, Were English.

If You Didn't Have Me To Rake You Over The Coals Now And Then, There Wouldn't Be Any Fire In Your Life At All.

I'll Take The Shooting. I'm Used To That. I've Been Shot A Few Times In The Past, And I Guess I Can Stand It, Again.

Don't Mourn, Organise

Her Sanity Was A Fragile Thing, A Butterfly Cupped In Her Hands, That She Carried With Her Everywhere, Afraid Of What Would Happen If She Let It Go-or Got Careless And Crushed It.