Sweet To Think On It, That When

Every Moment Must Be First Known And Then Savored.

My Own Funeral, I'd Like To Be Laid Out In A Coffin In My Own House. I Would Like My Coffin To Be Put In The Double Parlor, And I Would Like All The Flowers To Be White.

...what Was The Good Of Being A Movie Werewolf? You Howled At The Moon; You Couldn't Remember What You Did, And Then Somebody Shot You.

Mortal Beauty Often Makes Me Ache, And Mortal Grandeur Can Fill Me With That Longing...but Paris, Paris Drew Me Close To Her Heart, So I Forgot Myself Entirely. Forgot The Damned And Questing Preternatural Thing That Doted On Mortal Skin And Mortal Clothing. Paris Overwhelmed, And Lightened And Rewarded More Richly Than Any Promise.

I Had Many Wonderful Experiences, Received Beautiful Letters, And My Christian Books Received Substantive And Thoughtful Reviews. But There Was Always Argument, Dispute, Questions As To What I "really" Believed, Lectures From Here And There On "the Real Truth," Etc.