When Reason Sleeps, The Monsters Of Repression

My Fingers Positively Itched To Drift At Length Along Their Spines, To Arrive At One Whose Lure I Could Not Pass, To Pluck It Down, To Inch It Open, Then To Close My Eyes And Inhale The Soul-sparking Scent Of Old And Literate Dust.

So Much In Life Came Down To Timing.

While I Wasn't Certain How I Felt About Spiritualists, I Was Certain Enough About The Type Of People Who Were Drawn To Them. Only People Unhappy In The Present Seek To Know The Future.

A Way Of Looking At You That Told You She Was Listening, That She Understood All You Were Saying, And All You Weren't.

When Reason Sleeps, The Monsters Of Repression Will Emerge.