There's Something Dripping In My Head. A

The Only Thing You Must Never Speak Of Is Your Happiness.

Silence And Darkness Were All I Craved. Well, I Get A Certain Amount Of Both. They Being One.

The Blind Have No Notion Of Time. The Things Of Time Are Hidden From Them Too.

She Felt, As She Felt So Often With Murphy, Spattered With Words That Went Dead As Soon As They Sounded; Each Word Obliterated, Before It Had Time To Make Sense, By The Word That Came Next; So That In The End She Did Not Know What Had Been Said. It Was Like Difficult Music Heard For The First Time.

Name, No, Nothing Is Nameable, Tell, No, Nothing Can Be Told, What Then, I Don't Know, I Shouldn't Have Begun.